Haibun
by Fiona Fargazer
Summary: (Part 4 of TR Story) Follows Kosaburo after the events of Shadow Games. This is the final fic my sister and I wanted to write together following this story line.
1. One

JMJ

_Haibun_

(1)

Winter leaves

Think bitter thoughts

Of summer

"_First I give a toast to Ratticate! Yes, he's a pokémon, but I feel it only fitting to toast the mascot of the duo that was us!"_

_Bounding up and down in his chair, Ratticate beamed with pride, or maybe he simply discovered the cheesecake for the first time, for he seemed far more occupied with the slice being cut for him than to the speaker much less to the champagne set before him for the toast. Merrily he dove into his slice of cake, face-first (well, he was a pokémon, after all), and lifting his head up half way through he beamed once more and let out a cheerful, "Rah!"_

"_Sure, we only had a mascot because of Yamato's petty rivalry with Musashi, and sure he was always stupid and in the way of things even if he did come in handy with his hyper beam, but hey! What did that hyper beam ever get us anyway? He hardly ever succeeded with it. But all in all when all's said and done, I think he deserves a toast. Someone had to finish off our motto after all!"_

_Champagne glasses were thus lifted and the drink swallowed with perhaps a little too greedy a hand for a dinner party such as this, but Ratticates were not to be at the dinner table of dinner parties so it evened out that way._

"_Next! I want to give a toast to Kojiro. I would have toasted Namba first, but he could not make it due to an unfortunate accident on the way here — through the door, actually."_

_A small laugh rippled through the company._

"_Through the door, I tell ya, with good ol' Giovanni."_

_Murmurs followed._

"_So! Anyway, a toast to Kojiro. The spineless ameba, that insane and worthless magikarp who dared to think himself a gyarados, that dizzied spinda who could not even walk straight, the little squeaky puppy at my partner's rival's heals. A toast to his stupidity and his luck! For even that pipsqueak managed to be better off than me. He would've been dead by now if it had not been for his luck! To his luck, I say, cuz only luck makes him better than me. Second son, my foot. I'll third son him back to forth son! Here's to him!"_

_Another drink around, this time some spilling past the mouth was involved._

"_Then we got Musashi, my dear partner's rival. If only her agent skills were as good as her temper. It was that temper, you know, that was her undoing. That, and her half of a human partner. It had the heat and explosiveness of a magcargo on steroids and the control of a pichu spark. She saved my life, I'm told, but what's my life worth anyway. She would have been better off stealing pokémon, I suppose. A toast to her ADD, anger management issues, and everything that goes with it!"_

_Half the drink poured did not even make it into the mouth._

"_And a toast to Nyaasu! The hacker cat! The two morons' only means of any success they ever had. Without him, they would've been lamer, if that's even possible. If so fact so, they were already as lame as they could possibly be since their leader was a cat. A pokémon! Ha, ha! The lousy talking freak had them both on leashes and was probably a better agent than both of 'em put together. A toast to his unorthodox success. A pokémon to steal pokémon. Imagine the irony of that!"_

_Most of that somehow managed to reach the throat._

"_Then of course, I'd love to give a toast to my partner's brother Nobu! Oh, yes, don't be surprised that I invited you. I'm not surprised you came. I give a toast to you, for if it had not been for you I would not have the same partner, much as that really means, and I give you credit for your hard work. You're starting to sound like me brother, she said to me, and I said, 'Well, somebody around here should.' Actually I don't remember what I said, but a toast to Nobu!"_

_Ah, the champagne was reaching its bottom now._

"_So last of all we got Yamato. My faithful partner. What a partner. Covered in mounds of makeup, I doubt she was really pretty under it. Her hair was bleached and dyed. She wasn't even a real blond. She wasn't even a real partner, for that matter. I hear she's still Rocketing. The new Rockets since Giovanni kicked his bucket. Funny that it ended that way, but hey! She's got her new position in that ninja clan. Now I know you'd say I'm being too hard on Yamato. So let's be fair. What reason would she have to wait for me; she did offer me a place in the new, improved Team Rocket, but I have no interest in ninja-ship. I have my dignity! Can't you tell! Besides, she cared more about that dumb, ol' rat more than me. The way she babied him, fed him all sorts of treats. Made him the mascot. It was her idea to stick him at the end of the motto. It was her idea to make the balloon shaped like his ugly, rat head. I would've been just fine without a mascot! I hate pokémon. I really do. So, Yamato, to you and you adopted son. May you both be happy together, even if it's unlikely you'll ever find the stupid thing. Cheers!"_

_Nothing. Not a drop remained, and with a low growl of rage, Kosaburo threw the bottle as hard as he could onto the pavement. Yes, pavement, for the table had vanished now that the special champagne he had managed to get a hold of had vanished. The party guests were, naturally dust, and blew away like ghosts with the shattering of the glass._

"_Of course," muttered Kosaburo, who was not at all dressed as he had imagined, nor was his hair as styled up as it had been in the Team Rocket days, but long, shaggy and unkempt. "Since I've invited you to this party, I guess I've just reintroduced you. Why, you're very welcome."_

_He leaned his head back against the wall and groaned bitterly._

#

It seemed a century since I'd last seen Yamato, but it could not have been more than a couple years.

I saw her by accident after I left Orre. After four stinking years living in Pyrite Town. I don't know why I left. I guess I was just getting bored. The gangs in pyrite were just getting to be a pain. I started a war there, you know. Just because. For fun.

But then I saw Yamato. Wandering aimlessly around Johto and Kanto, I stumbled right into the midst of the new Rockets. I think they were planning on ripping me apart, I'm not sure, but bold, heroic Yamato came to my rescue.

"Kosaburo!" she cried like she cared. She shoved the others away, and grabbed me by the arm and said, "What happened to you?"

What happened to me? What happened to me?

I smiled.

"Yamato," I said. "You left me a shadowized freak."

Her eyes clouded and she turned abruptly away. I'm sure guilt had swept through her, and she would have looked pretty if I had sympathy with her. I noticed her outfit instead. Formfitting, black, with dark boots and gloves, not to mention the mask she wore over her eyes. The red "R" was now small and inconspicuous on the corner of her chest like a business logo, and styled as if it had been streaked there in sloppy paint.

"They got new uniforms," I said.

She eyed me over her shoulder, for she was in the process of turning, and with a shake of her head she said, "Don't you know what happened to Team Rocket?"

I told her I knew that Giovanni had been killed by Snagg'em. There was not a person in Pyrite Town who had not heard about it. The Snagg'em agents had already been scheming, and had sent scouts up into Kanto before they knew of the fall of the shadow project. Even if they had, the damage had already been done, and Team Rocket using Snagg'em agents for their experiments would not be tolerated. All I knew was that they had gassed the dear old Boss, and that both he and his daughter had died, leaving Team Rocket open for the taking.

"You don't know the half of it," said Yamato with a shake of her head as if I was to be pitied for not understanding what she understood.

She led me to a small base where there was lunch to eat from cute, little _bento_ boxes. There was an extra one for me, or maybe it was just that someone had not come in time for lunch and Yamato wanted to appear as a good hostess.

"Snagg'em," she said, "collaborated with Polsar to end the war and stop Team Rocket, and they succeeded."

"Team Rocket seems to be thriving now," I said with a shrug.

"Under new management of Athena-san," said Yamato.

"Athena took over!" I laughed. "I would have thought Apollo would've been the one to jump in for the kill."

"He died," said Yamato.

"Him too, huh?" I asked.

The rice was underdone, I noticed.

"_Hai_," said Yamato. "Everyone who was at Team Rocket Headquarters was gassed not just Giovanni and Domino."

"How'd they manage that?" I wanted to know.

"Trojan horse," said Yamato. "Snagg'em pretended to surrender with a gift of friendship if the old Team Rocket promised to leave Snagg'em agents out of their schemes."

"Well, Team Rocket was bound to fall anyway," I said with a shrug. "But how did Athena manage to slip away?"

"Some say she knew it was coming and left," said Yamato. "She hated Giovanni by that point and had absolutely no loyalty to him, but as you can probably guess, everyone at Headquarters died. Every pokémon in the place was pilfered that had been safe from the gas inside pokéballs. That mostly only left the field agents to regroup afterwards, because they were out in the field, naturally. We formed the new Team Rocket. Run through the clans. We're loyal to each other. It's better than it was before."

"Well, the food was better then."

"Join us," Yamato said with an almost cheerful smile. "You'd be a great asset."

"Join you," I laughed.

Join them, she said. I still remember the look of earnestness in her face. I still remember how her eyes yearned to make up for leaving me when I had been a raving lunatic and wreck left over from the shadow agent plot.

"You're okay now," said Yamato. "They cured you, right?"

"They promised they would," I grumbled, and I told her something about how they had been funded anonymously a great sum of money. I did not tell her that I had this strange, almost uncanny feeling that her old rival Musashi had had something to do with it. It would have made her annoyed, but more importantly it would have made me annoyed, and I could not say for sure if it was her anyway. How would Musashi get so much money?

"_Ii wa ne_!" said Yamato. "So you'll join us?"

"I didn't say that," I retorted.

"But why?" asked Yamato; she looked as if she had been slapped across the face.

Good. That was how I felt just being in her presence again.

"Cuz if this is what Team Rocket had been before I joined, I wouldn't've joined. It's a ninja clan," I told her. "Just look at how you're dressed. It's run by a woman besides."

"And what's wrong with that?" demanded Yamato impatiently.

"Nothing!" I laughed. "Nothing." After a pause, I muttered, "You wouldn't happen to have anything to drink around here would you?"

She handed me a glass of sake before long, and I had it down before much longer than she had given it to me. Naturally, she saw what the drink meant to me, and she frowned with disapproval and wrinkled her powdered nose.

Let her disapprove, I thought.

At least she was not attempting to stop me or lecture me.

"What about Gakuto?" I asked. "Did he make it?"

"Yeah, he made it, but he's not in Team Rocket."

"There, you see?"

"Only because he's been kicked out," sniffed Yamato. "He made Athena-san angry, so she ordered his head. Gakuto went to the police for protection."

"Your brother then?" I asked her, and I asked her for another glass.

For some reason she complied even with my tone of disdain for her family.

"Oh, Nobu's still in Team Rocket," she said

"And Lance?"

"He's the right hand man," said Yamato.

"Figures," I muttered, "the freak, and I suppose we got Lambda on the left."

"No one knows what happened to Lambda after the old Team Rocket fell," Yamato explained, "Buson and Basho are next after Lance."

"Oh, wonderful," I muttered. I had no liking for any of the three, especially Buson and Basho.

"And Domino. She tried to avenge Giovanni."

"And didn't succeed?" I said. "I thought she died in the gassing."

"No, she was with Lance," said Yamato. "She knew that Athena-san let him die, so she went to revenge herself on her first, but Basho did her in."

"Ah, naturally," I said. "I don't suppose Tatsumi's still in prison?"

I was disappointed that my glass was empty again.

"Tatsumi's with us and I have no idea what happened to his superior Shiranui," said Yamato, and then noting my disappointment, she added, "Joining would be better for you than stealing drink instead of pokémon."

"I think my chances are better with sake than with Athena," I said. "Besides, I'm not part of the clans. I'm not related to anyone."

"I was only related to my brother," Yamato said. "Athena-san likes me too, so if you come as a friend of mine …"

"_Gomen_, Yamato," I told her quite seriously, "but I'm through with Team treachery."

Yamato actually gave me some money when we parted even though I'm sure she knew what I was going to do with it, but she was still trying to make up for the fact that she left me. I wouldn't have anything more to do with her, but I still took her money. I drowned my memories in a pool of sake at the first inn in town when I left her. Not once did I look back. Not once.

#

Only one lucky person had managed to become a full shadow agent. No one I know knew his name. Someone must have somewhere I suppose. Cipher, did not know him. Not Snagg'em either. I certainly didn't recognize him from Team Rocket, but he had a notorious identity as the Shadow Agent now.

Children were not allowed out after dark in some places. Even hard, old men at the bars would often speak of him in whispers.

He was a dark force like Dracula overlooking his village from his castle. People rarely saw him, but his presence was no less felt than if they had. The people of Pyrite Town and the surrounding area often blamed him for unfortunate happenings such as missing pets, missing children, and naturally anyone found dead even if it was obviously from a heart attack or some other serious ailment, there was at least someone who said it had to be the Shadow Agent.

I joked to myself at times that if I had known how much notoriety I would have gotten in being the second only Shadow Agent I would have almost considered allowing those scientists to have their way with me in completing the shadow process.

I felt him myself more than once. Some presence behind me, but when I would look, of course, he would not be there. I knew it was him nonetheless. I don't know how I knew, but it could be no one else. He knew who I was. I could not doubt that. Perhaps he could smell the remnants of that juice flowing through me. Having run away as soon as I could from that place with Dr. Izumi I probably still had shadow goo floating around inside somewhere.

But only a few weeks before I left the gang did I actually see him; people only saw him if he wanted to be seen. After all, the police had been seeking him since they knew of his existence, and no had been successful in sighting him that I knew of.

I was not even thinking of him and had not for some time. Up just before dawn, I felt the urge to move. Out along the streets I wandered a bit, relishing the only quiet time between the night life and the day life. Then in the silhouette lit by the light of the street lamps I saw him just outside my alley.

His clothes were rags, except for the long coat he had managed to get a hold of, his hair was shaggy but managed, and his face bearded but trimmed. What struck me first off however was the eyes. They seemed to glow like a cat's eyes, and he stood glaring at me. I stood and glared back. I felt no fear because of him. I rarely felt fear at all. Only anger, which the scientists and doctors told me was not just from shadow juice.

Waiting patiently, I expected the Shadow Agent to say something. Why else would he come to see me? If he had meant to kill me, he would have ripped my head off before I could have known he was on me.

He said nothing, and remained still for a moment. Slowly and purposefully he made his way toward me. I let him come and did not run. Only the smallest amount of fear made it past my rising impatience and anger. When he stopped just before my face with intense jaws ajar and eyes blazing like an animal's, and I straightened myself, for I was superior to him in at least the remnants of my humanity. For I doubted he had anything human left in him.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

A glint flashed in the Shadow Agent's eyes, and he straightened as well. He was only a little shorter than I was but he held himself like a massive ursaring might before preparing for a charge.

I could feel his hot, stinking breath on my face in the cold dawn, and he studied my eyes very deeply with a hatred unexplainable. Maybe he was envious of the fact that I had been spared the same fate as him; maybe he hated me simply because he felt me under him and worth nothing but scorn. He did not seem to think I was worth much to speak to, but then maybe speech did not seem necessary to the full shadowized subject.

I thought too soon, though.

"I'll spill your black veins," he said in a voice very hallow like he was already dead and had been in the grave a couple years. "I'll ground you into paste."

I frowned, but did not reply to that.

With an impressive strength he grabbed my arm. I made to wrench my rightful appendage back, but I knew I stood no chance against his synthetic might. He fingers the veins on my wrist and looked as if he may just start to feast on it with bloodthirsty lust, but just as his grip started to become painful, we heard footsteps from behind.

Whipping his head behind him like a startled animal, he spun in the direction of the sound, and releasing me he slipped into the shadows and was no more before some member of the gang ran to see what had happened to me.

* * *

**Japanese Phrases:**

_Hai_: yes

_Ii wa ne:_ that's great (with emphasis)

_Gomen_: sorry


	2. Two

(2)

Despising darkness

Mocking light

Trapped in stormy twilight

Like a ghost, I wandered. I never wanted to stay in one place for long. An itch would take me, and I would be swept off with the next wind if I was sober enough to sweep. Often I only was sober because I did not get the money for sake or anything else to quench my thirst. From Kanto I moved into Johto. I went as far north as the Northern Region, and I somehow found myself in Sinnoh and still don't know how I managed it. I spent some time in Unova until I grew tired of the noise, the high fashion, the high tech lights and flashing. I went to Hoenn, quite sober then. I even had a mind to stay sober for a while, I think, but I had to question my sobriety when I saw the quaint scene in the mountain pass.

They say the world is small, but I had never in a million years expected to see Kojiro and Musashi. I had pretty much forgotten they existed, but I knew it to be no others. Maybe I had some sixth sense that came over from the shadow process after all, but whatever the reason, I felt it was those lousy X-agents before I drew close enough to get a good look, and when I did anyone who had met them could have recognized them, except maybe that kid they had stalked and his friends who fell for their lamest disguises. They looked older, calmer, and their hair and clothes were fit to appear almost normal, but they still had a look of eccentricity about them. Then again, I don't think anyone who has worked for Team Rocket for a long period of time can help being at least a little bit eccentric.

Crouching through the brush I crept closer and glared out onto the sunlit hill. The grass blew and the trees gently rocked and swayed, and there they sat. The shrieks of children barely reached my ears as anything more than an echo; the sound of the shrieks of a cat unwilling to play I only just perceived enough to think in disgust of that idiotic nyaasu. As for how many children those two maniacs had in their procession I cared not to know, but my eyes were drawn almost solely on Musashi and Kojiro themselves. The colors of their hair gave them away the most. Musashi's hair was short now, and Kojiro's had lost its teenaged band look, but their colors proved as bright as ever in fruity red and a sort of pastel purplish blue.

As Musashi collapsed into Kojiro's side like she meant to knock him over where they say on their picnic blanket, I noticed that she held something delicate in her lap, and Kojiro and she gazed as though hypnotized upon it. It was another child, I soon saw. An infant. Judging by the blue he wore, a little male infant.

For a moment, I'm not sure why, but I hated that infant.

_How many of those things are they intending on breeding?_ I thought grudgingly.

An image of Yamato flicked in the back of my mind. An annoying flashback of some other time and place when I was happy and stupid and working for Team Rocket like a faithful paper boy tossing papers to the correct doors …

_With an atmospheric grace, Kosaburo slipped into the café and was happy to be out of the rain. He released his hold from the collar of his trench coat, which he had been using in an attempt to shield himself from the weather. Now he glanced across the little space to the far corner where Yamato already held a cup of coffee at a small table for two._

_They had met here to wait for Namba's call. As the preferred, they waited in stylish atmosphere, and they waited with patience and nonchalant poise. _

_There was a time when Kosaburo was very young and had not yet had goals for Team Rocket that he had wanted to be an actor. He had once managed to snag the part of the Fox in the _shogakko _production of _Pinocchio_. Little had he known at the time, how many times afterwards he would play that same Fox and even with the little female Cat a constant partner at his side._

_Not that Kosaburo had a mind on school plays at the moment, however much he still enjoyed any chance he had to act, and he played his parts well. If he played the part of a wise old man, you believed he was a wise old man. When given the part of a happy, stupid counter clerk, you had no doubt in your mind he was just as innocent a fool as he pretended to be. He and Yamato both often played the part of a romantic couple. Their acting was so good in fact that Kosaburo more than once received a wink from a waiter or another such person as if to say Kosaburo had himself a good catch in such a pretty, dainty creature as Yamato._

_This more often than not would make him chuckle inwardly, but for a fleeting moment as he looked at Yamato now, he almost fell for her façade himself, and had a strange thought pass through his mind, _What if we had a relationship that was more than just an act for professional gain?

_Glancing over her sunglasses, Yamato turned to him and woke him from such idle thought._

_He shrugged all such distraction aside and slipped into the chair across from Yamato. Having ordered himself some coffee and toast, his mind took up entirely the mission and his act and nothing more in his usual professional manner …_

I turned away, and had a strong desire for something to drink as I made my way back into the town from which I had come. I had no desire to stay and watch my old rivals in their Disney-esque happily ever after any longer. What were Musashi and Kojiro and their stupidity to me? I felt nothing but revulsion for them.

With what little money I had left I bought enough drink to get decently drunk. Fortunately, my troubles soon left me; unfortunately, I decided to go for a walk. Right back up into the mountains and even clear headed this was not a safe climb. In the greying evening rocks do become tricky with a mind unable to focus. Steep cliffs do in the best of us under influence. That my head did not crack open had to be divine influence in itself. Need I explain further?

#

_After dinner was Kojiro's time for repose of mind. Everyone needs that. No matter how much one loves one's family, one has to escape to oneself now and again, and this time Kojiro chose. His old, faithful Gar-Chan would usually come along, and sometimes Fuuyuki, who was the most thoughtful by nature of the three boys and liked the solitude of being with his father on these walks (his thoughtful nature proved by far much more reposed than Kojiro's ever was), and Kojiro certainly did not mind._

_Today however, Musashi had not wanted even Kojiro to go, for the clouds looked dangerous, and rain seemed liable to fall, and in this mountain pass, a little rain could do more than get one wet. In places the water would gush forth like a river and knock one clear to town, and that is exactly what Musashi said._

_When it had been discovered that their house in Kanto had been destroyed, Musashi and Kojiro decided to set up home somewhere far away out of Team Rocket territory. Fear of being caught up in Team Rocket yet again would not leave Kojiro be, and he would not risk his daughter nor his wife nor any other child that would come after Bara to get stuck in that mess for all the world. Thus they disappeared into the Hoenn Region and only came out these days for Christmas at the Niwa Estate or with Kojiro's cousins at Uncle Akio's house._

_Giovanni would not seek them out, they were not worth the effort, but if he ran across them again, Kojiro had no doubt in his mind that he would suck them all back in._

_Today, however, Kojiro was in cheerful spirits and with a mind hardly on such things as Team Rocket or fears about his family's safety. He kissed Musashi playfully and laughed as he warned her, "You'll be become a worrying old housewife if you keep that up." And he meant it in only the most innocent of terms for Musashi always said that she would ever be one of those old wives with old wives' tales or anything like that. Musashi with a wry smile retorted that it was his fault if she was._

_Then more seriously, Kojiro said, "I promise. I won't stay out long," And with a last kiss goodbye he flew out the door with the look of a little boy running out after dropping his backpack inside after school with his dog chasing after him._

_As dog and man trounced along the easy passes where there would be less danger of the river of rain if they did happen to get caught in a storm, Kojiro certainly did not expect anything eventful. In the danger of the weather no traveling pokémon trainer or anyone else would venture the passes except maybe Satoshi in his younger days, but he had already passed through Hoenn long ago and might be half way across the world by now._

_Gar-Chan always stayed on the alert, though, and the dog shortly before the point at which Kojiro had wanted to turn back, caught an unusual scent. He sniffed the air and lifted his nose straight above his head to get the full whiff of it. Then stiffening, he looked out into the darkening scene of mountain brush and stone walls._

"_Gar-Chan?" asked Kojiro._

_They did not have time for wild goose chases, but as he stepped up to the dog, Gar-Chan paid little heed, immediately darting off the road._

"_Gar-Chan!" Kojiro cried, leaping after him. "_Matte_!"_

_Even as he caught himself from slipping on a stone, he felt the first sprinkle of rain. With a cry, Kojiro just barely managed to steady himself from falling face first off the road, but he did not chase after Gar-Chan again until he had a look up at the groaning sky._

"_Gar-Chan!" he cried again, spinning round and scrambling into the brush._

_He pushed the branches out of his way, and his eyes immediately fell upon what Gar-Chan had been seeking._

_With a triumphant bark, Gar-Chan sat before the head of the unconscious form at Kojiro's feet._

_Kojiro gasped, and dropped to his knees to get a better look. Whoever this person was, he did not look good. Covered in mud and dressed practically in rags with a shaggy green hair and rough face. Cheap drink radiated off of him, proving that even if he was awake, he would be good for nothing out here when the rain fell down. His ankle looked twisted too, also adding to the pitiful state._

_Turning sharply to Gar-Chan, Kojiro said, "Stay with him. Stay. I'll … uh, get a wagon or something!"_

"_Gar-ooo!" Gar-Chan agreed and stiffened himself, vigilant over his charge._

_#_

I first felt conscious of the sting of something tampering with a wound on my head. All at once, rage flared up inside and I opened my eyes. Once I opened them I found rage to be quite exhausting for just the simple act of lifting eyelids reminded me of my weariness and pain, not to mention a hangover migraine that caused me to feel that I may throw up. My eyes could barely focus on the hand as it left my head with some hesitance, but as I narrowed them in on the form above me. My immediate thought was that I was dreaming, but I glared at him, slowly focusing all his features into place: his dopey round eyes, his purplish blue hair.

After letting my mouth drop a moment, I said — maybe hissed is a better word, "Kojiro!"

Kojiro jolted with surprise, causing his eyes to be even wider and stupider than before. Then he squinted at me, studying me carefully, but I did not let him look long before, I reached out an unsteady hand to push him away.

"Get outa my face," I grumbled.

"Ko … san, uh! Kosaburo?" he asked timidly, twiddling his fingers. Then he paused a moment before the full realization dawned on him. "What happened to you?!" he cried.

I closed my eyes and turned my head away with a groan. Somehow I had a feeling this was not a dream. If it had been a dream he would have finished calling me "Kosanji", and I would have kicked him across the room and clear through the wall. Besides that I probably would have dreamed Kojiro looking the way he always had to me, as everyone from my past had, as members of Team Rocket in full uniform.

"No, really!" Kojiro continued. "What happened? Where have you been all this time?"

"Shut up," I grumbled, opening my eyes reluctantly to him again.

"Right, right, _gomen_!" Kojiro said with a strange sort of laugh followed by an awkward bow. "_Gomen_ …" he cleared his throat. "You're not well. You just rest and …"

"I going," I told him.

"You can't!" Kojiro cried, but I was already pulling myself to my feet, trying hard to ignore him like some pesky fly. "Kosaburo! _Chotto matte_!"

He could not do anything to stop me. He just wrung his hands and watched helplessly and tried to continue begging me not to go.

Pushing for the doorway after scrambling off the low cot bed, I found myself in a place that looked sort of like a small barn. A few of their pokémon were hanging out in here, and it caused another surge of anger to run through me to be housed in the same building as pokémon, even if the guest room or whatever it was, would have proven to be a very cozy little room had I been in the mood to appreciate it. I stumbled towards the latched main door, and had just managed to undo the latch before I collapsed onto my side in pain and agony. Head pounding, my ankle writhing, my stomach lurching, I stared out into a storm that had the ferocity of a raging shadow pokémon.

I could not go on. I gave up, relented. Kojiro helped me to my feet, and he gently led me limping back to my room where once I hit the bed I lost consciousness.

#

"Since when did you learn anything about doctoring?" I demanded, examining the neatly dressed wounds on my wrist, just as neatly as my ankle, forehead, and a few other parts of me cut on the stones upon which I had fallen.

"I uh … well," said Kojiro, running his fingers nervously through his hair with an awkward smile. "Partly from Musashi, and partly from experience, and …" he paused thoughtfully a moment and then added, "some local wisdom from the nearby town."

"Really," I snorted.

"Children get hurt all the time getting into trouble," Kojiro explained with a sort of affection that disgusted me in regards to his offspring. (I had almost forgotten about his little offspring). "And you're not the first traveler or their pokémon to come through here injured like this and worse. Up here it's hard to get to a doctor if you're hurt. Cars can't get up here, so unless you got a big well-trained pokémon …"

I'd been bruised, cut, and I had a fever besides, it was soon discovered. All that forced me to remain at Kojiro's little guest cottage. I still considered it a barn where his pokémon slept.

"And now from Team Rocket agent to father and Good Samaritan, huh?" I muttered.

Embarrassment exploded onto his face and full red color rushed into his cheeks; his discomfort pleased me, and I sniggered in delight.

"Well, you're welcome!" he retorted gruffly, or as gruffly as Kojiro could manage.

Besides that, he could not keep it up for long. His face softened with pity I did not want, especially from him, and he looked at me and bit his lip before his eyes faltered to his lap.

"I could go into town and bring a doctor up here if you want," Kojiro's little voice barely spoke above a whisper.

That did not bode too well with me. My eyes narrowed, and I stiffened with a slight angry spark that flickered inside that so easily flammable heart of mine. Being in pain did not help matters any either. Kojiro himself was not helping matters by his very presence!

"No doctor!" I spat.

"Okay, okay!" Kojiro agreed in a sort of squeak before he took control of that unwieldy voice of his like one taking control of the wheel of a runaway car. "No doctor." He paused, his eyes searching the floor a moment as for a lost penny (_Or maybe just some lost sense in his brain_, I thought dryly), then lifting them back to me, he asked, "Why no doctor?"

"Why do you think, _baka_? Doctors want records. Don't you know what'll happen with my record?"

Kojiro gulped. "Are you still shadowized?" he whispered.

"No!" I snarled; then I thought a few seconds before added, "I wouldn't have been stupid enough to leave that place without having Pr. Krane and his friends cure me. And you know what agony that was? No, you don't. You have no idea! I left just before I was ready enough for prison."

"They were going to send you to prison?" asked Kojiro hesitantly.

"Yes, stupid," I told him. "Are all your children just as stupid as you?"

Kojiro glowered, nearly dangerously, but it was still too pouty to be taken too seriously, and again, I at least felt a little satisfied.

"No," he said.

I laughed, but my laugh weakened as the heat of my fever surged above the heat of my anger, and I let out a bitter moan.

"You're sick," he told me as if I had not already known, and he cleared his throat in an attempt to sound authoritative. "Just … drink your water." He had brought a bottle of it for me and had set it on the floor beside the low cot.) "And I'll be back and—"

"_Gomenasai_."

Kojiro spun around, and I too had to look up at toward that little coo of a sound.

I had to admit she was a lovely child, but then no one ever said that a child of Kojiro's would be ugly even if his wife was a tad gangly. She had long, dark purple hair and deep emerald eyes a shade darker than Kojiro's, which were shielded beneath a pair of dark lashes and brows that might as well had been painted on her forehead with a calligraphy pen. It was her brain I was worried about though, not her looks. What kind of mind would spring up with living in the middle of nowhere with puppy-dog Kojiro on one side and boiling pot Musashi on the other — not to mention that talking fur ball Nyaasu who happened to have been spying on me through the window before Kojiro arrived that morning.

However, she looked normal enough, bowing her head in apology for the interruption.

"What is it?" Kojiro asked her.

"_Okasan_ made breakfast if _Ojisan_ wants something to eat," said the girl.

"Food made by Musashi?" I grumbled, hardly enthusiastic.

"She's been taking lessons," Kojiro promised with a nervous smile.

The girl nodded vigorously with smile that was somewhere between Kojiro's awkwardness and Musashi's exaggerated madness. Bringing forward the fake silver tray, she presented it to me, and I took it with a glare in Kojiro's direction.

It had a funny aftertaste and the miso was far too strong, but I could not ignore how starving I felt and ate up the soup eagerly.

"I helped make it," the girl whispered to Kojiro just loud enough for me to make out.

Kojiro stroked her shoulder with such gentle care as he touched a priceless glass sculpture or a tiny, fragile bird.

"Do you want me get you some too, _Otoosan_?"said the girl.

Although he hesitated, and I saw that hesitance in his shifting eyes, Kojiro smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, alright," he told her.

I rolled me eyes as the girl bowed to me and left the room.

"I hope you get better, _Ojisan_," she said.

At least she did not call me Kosanji …

#

"_Why did you come back here?" Kosaburo demanded, eyes flashing like lightning as they locked onto Musashi's face in the doorway._

"_I promised you I would," Musashi sniffed with some offence as she stepped further in through the door, "and Kojiro's here too."_

_Kosaburo glowered, and it made Musashi suspicious, for he looked liable to pounce from his bed and attack her. With the shadow poison still running strong through his veins he no doubt could. He himself warned Musashi that they had not been giving him any medication recently since they figured out how to adjust the deshadowizing machine for human use. Medication got in the way of the healing process it had been explained later by the staff._

"_No!" hissed Kosaburo. He did not boil over, he merely simmered. "I don't want him to come in here."_

#

Why only Kojiro came to me, I am not sure. Maybe Musashi was too busy. Maybe Nyaasu and Musashi made him as they used to make him do everything, but I doubted it even then. I did not know anything about that stupid cat, but I remembered Musashi that day she came to picnic with me in Orre.

I still remembered her words, and they burned clearly in my mind: _Kojiro is better than you'll ever be … He's … he's … the bravest person I've ever met_.

It made me sick. Well, I was already sick and in more ways than one, but it made my meager meals swim and decide to surf up my throat to puke. It should not have bothered me as much as it had. Why should I have cared what Musashi thought of Kojiro? I didn't, and yet it was that thought of Musashi's words that day that made hate Kojiro most. I felt he did not deserve them, and I knew Musashi meant them. However much it gave me warped pleasure to think that Nyaasu and Musashi were forcing him to do this for me so they would not have to, I knew that whether or not Nyaasu would do such a thing, if he did, Musashi would rather chuck the cat in here to wait on me rather than purposely humiliate the delicate balance of her husband.

I did everything I could to make Kojiro's life miserable while I stayed at his house, and by the end of the week I could see notable wear on him.

"How can you live with yourself?" I demanded. "Being such a miserable wreck as you?" And all that kind of thing I demanded of him while he exchanged my bandages for new ones, gave me my meals and medicines, and checked the status of my twisted ankle.

He put up with it all with only minimal complaint and sometimes a shout and the occasional childish pout or leer, but he did not seem to feel it worth defending himself with anything useful in his behalf, or maybe nothing came to his mind to say in his defense.

As soon as he was done with the bandages one day, he picked himself up with obvious effort.

"I gotta go," he murmured in a hollow voice.

I had just finished reminding him of his stupidity on the occasions Yamato and I ran into him. There was a special lingering on the moltres incident, which seemed to hit some nerve and really wear him ragged not to mention have him lose his temper a moment or two.

I smiled now, happy he was leaving. "So you can go cry to your wife like a baby?" I asked.

A visible shudder went through him.

"No!" he snarled. "No!"

He clenched his fists, shaking all over, and he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

JAPANESE PHRASES

_Shogakko_: elementary school

_Chotto matte_: wait a minute

_Baka:_ stupid

_Gomenasai_: excuse me

_Okasan: _mom

_Otoosan: _dad

_Ojisan: _sir (loosely)


	3. Three

JMJ

(3)

Tug of war

Over flowers

Cruel claws sent back to winter

"_I saw that," Musashi warned Ichiro._

"_What?" the boy asked innocently._

"_I'm not blind. No making faces at Tama," said Musashi. "Read that book."_

"_But it's boring," complained Ichiro._

"_I don't care what it is," said Musashi. "You picked it out, you read it. You want to be illiterate?"_

"_Yeah," said Ichiro with a shrug._

_Musashi leered dangerously. "You wanna take on _Okasan_ about it?"_

"_I, uh … mean, no, _Okasan_," said Ichiro._

_Musashi smiled. "That's better."_

_She paused and glanced at Tama only three and too young to have to learn school. Bouncing up and down Tama laughed about no apparent thing, except maybe the sound and feel of the sofa springs. Normally Musashi would have scooped up the silly little girl and brought her somewhere where she would be no danger to defenseless sofas or learning brains, but as she glanced about her briefly she said, "Who saw Kojiro last?"_

_Ichiro, Fuuyuki, and Bara did not know._

"_Nyaasu!"_

_Nyaasu looked up from his catnip toy which he had been thoroughly mangling in catlike fashion. At the sound of his name, he leapt to his feet, the toy still in his mouth._

"_Uhy hawfn' see 'im, ngya!" Nyaasu protested._

_Musashi rolled her eyes. "Take that thing out of your mouth, Nyaasu," she muttered._

_Spitting it out, Nyaasu cleared his throat and said, "He's probably with Kosanji."_

_Fuuyuki frowned with confusion._

"_I thought Otoosan said that his name was—"_

"_Nyah …" Nyaasu waved a paw aside. "What does he know?"_

"_Hmph!" Musashi said. "I just peaked in through the window and I didn't see him."_

"_Gar-Chan's gone," said Bara. "Maybe they went for a walk somewhere."_

"_Okay," said Musashi, and she sighed. "You make sure only learning goes on here, and take care of Mitzu if he wakes up, Nyaasu."_

"_Nyah?" Nyaasu did not sound overly enthusiastic about the idea but knew better than to argue._

_Then Musashi took her leave and glanced around to see if Kojiro was anywhere in sight. She could see no sign of him, but she walked out to the back, past the vegetable garden they were struggling to grow, past a few wild hedges, and she still could not see him. He must have really gone out for a walk, she was just deciding, but just as she turned around to leave she saw the head of Gar-Chan poking his head up from behind a small rise. As Gar-Chan did not run to meet her, she assumed Kojiro was with him._

_With a raised brow, she trekked across the grassy yard making her way to the rise, and sure enough, Kojiro sat leaning back against the trunk of a weeping willow and staring out rather gloomily over the sharp drop before him to the barren stone-filled, grassy slopes of mountain ground._

_Kojiro looked up with a start at her approach and tried to smile, but his attempt proved pitiable._

"_Kojiro?" asked Musashi coming to an abrupt stop a couple yards away._

"_Oh, hi, Musashi," said Kojiro, his second attempted smile was a little better but not by much._

"Doushiteno_?" Musashi demanded._

_His face fell and he glanced down at Gar-Chan before he said, "Nothing, I'm okay. I was just …"_

_With a roll of her eyes, Musashi took the last few paces between herself and Kojiro, and she dropped to a squat beside him. She studied him a moment, and he lifted his head to her with a worn look in his eyes._

"_Don't lie to me," said Musashi. "What happened? It's Kosaburo isn't it?"_

"_It's nothing, Musashi!" Kojiro snapped, and his tone surprised Musashi a little._

_Gar-Chan let out a bark of concern, and with eyes softening, Kojiro turned away miserably with eyes out over the cliff again._

_Dropping from her squat onto her knees, Musashi let out a heavy sigh, and silence reigned for a few minutes. She then decided to speak, but Kojiro turned back before she could open her mouth._

"_I'm sorry, Musashi," he said._

_Musashi shook her head._

"_It's okay," she said. "Just tell me what's wrong."_

"_I can't," said Kojiro._

"_Why not?" Musashi demanded. "Stop being stupid and just tell me."_

"_Musashi?"_

"_What?!" said Musashi patience quite thin now._

"_I don't … I mean …. Uh …" He let out a small humorless laugh._

"_Kojiro …"_

"_I'm sorry for being such a … I mean that I … I mean …"_

"_Kojiro, you're babbling," said Musashi._

_His head dropped._

"Gomen_," he squeaked._

"_Gurow?" asked Gar-Chan with a cock of his head._

_Kojiro stroked the dog's head absently._

"_I shouldn't cry on you like I do," murmured Kojiro._

_A squint befell Musashi. "_Nani_?"_

"_I'm pathetic the way I cry on you and …"_

"_Kojiro …" said Musashi, temper rising and eyes closing with resistance, and it was at least enough to slow it down. "I'll slap you."_

_Kojiro choked down a near sob._

_Opening her eyes to Kojiro again, compassion overtook her, and she grabbed his neck to squeeze his head from behind._

"_What did he tell you? Huh?"_

_Having recovered from the surprise of her sudden action, Kojiro lifted his eyes above him even though he could not see her face no matter how high he raised them, and he smiled a little before it escaped from him when he registered her question._

"_I'll call the police and have them deal with him if he keeps abusing you like that," said Musashi. "Don't listen to him. He's just a jerk. He's jealous, okay? You don't cry on me too much. He has no idea what you're like now. Don't let him try to make you think that you're less than what you know you are, you understand? You shouldn't have to put up with him."_

"_It's just until he gets better," said Kojiro._

"_Well, he's well enough to go to jail by now," Musashi sniffed, "or at least an infirmary or something in one."_

"_But, Musashi," Kojiro protested._

"_What?"_

"_I … I promised him that I wouldn't call the police," he said._

_Musashi rolled her eyes in disgust. "Well, you didn't promise _I_ wouldn't," she sapped._

_A small groan erupted from Kojiro now, and Musashi's arms slip to Kojiro's shoulders._

"_I wanted to help him," said Kojiro. "I was hoping that letting him stay here would help him be better for himself …"_

"_He doesn't want our help," said Musashi. "Not that kind of help. You're just making yourself miserable, that's what you're doing."_

"_I know, but …"_

"_He hates us," said Musashi. "I tried helping that ungrateful wretch once before. And you even donated all that money even though it made your parents annoyed—"_

"_It didn't really make them annoyed," Kojiro cut in, but too softly for Musashi to pay much attention to it._

"—_to those guys trying to make the shadowized people better, and anonymously too and — oh Kojiro!"_

"_Hmm?" asked Kojiro._

"_What am I going to do with you? You try too hard. You want to be perfect. You're too good for your own good, Kojiro," she said and kissed his head._

"_No, I'm not," sighed Kojiro. "I'm far from that."_

"_But I won't let you kill yourself over Kosaburo!" Musashi snapped._

"_I'm not killing myself over it," said Kojiro._

"_Yes, you are, and I won't let you," said Musashi. "If I see that he's making you miserable again, I'll call the police, you understand?"_

_Kojiro nodded. "I understand, Musashi."_

"_And you don't cry on me too much," Musashi added. "And you're not a wussy … whatever he called you. Maybe you were once — okay you definitely were — but not anymore! You brought us out here to protect us from Team Rocket. You worked your butt off trying to get this place started, and I had to take care of Bara-chan, especially when she got sick there for a while, and we were so scared, but you didn't give up. Don't you remember? I was the one freaking out, and Nyaasu wasn't helping! You were trying to keep it together! If it hadn't been for you I would have lost it then! Not to mention all that stuff you did going back home to your parents, facing Rumika, and fighting me and Nyaasu so we could have this life we have now. We would've been shadow agents if it hadn't been for you. It was _you_ who wanted to make us more self sufficient, and you who wanted to help the trainers that passed through here and got a name for ourselves in town. You're a determined, brave, strong man, and you keep telling yourself that or else!"_

"_I'll, uh … try to," said Kojiro, fidgeting his fingers a little before Musashi kissed his head again and gave him a tight squeeze around the chest._

"_Your heart's just too sensitive for its own good," said Musashi with a sigh as she parted. "That's why you made such a lousy Team Rocket agent. You were fighting your own nature to be cruel, not to be bad really. Anyone can be that, but you were never naturally cruel."_

"_I was pretty cruel when I wanted to be …" Kojiro muttered; then with a sigh, he smiled a little. "I just wish," he said in a slightly different mood, "I mean, not just him, but everyone. All the agents. I—"_

_Musashi held her finger over his lips._

"_Shhh," she said. "Just relax. Don't wish. Just come inside and stop moping. There are little students inside who need help with their school anyway." She let out a wry smile._

"Arigato_, Musashi," said Kojiro._

#

Ah, yes! Prison!

Although I had been promised by Kojiro not to have the police involved in this, I wound up in their paws anyway. I knew Musashi was the one who had called, but I still felt bitter about that promise and mentally took it out on Kojiro even if I hated both of them by the time the bars clanged shut before my face.

I had been locked up in the past with Yamato but never long enough to have to worry about it; though, one day is more than enough time to spend there. In those days my partner and I were always bailed out or even broken out by our supportive leader Giovanni until the day he decided to betray his loyal agents, but now I could count on no one's bail, no one to break me out, no one even to really represent me at my trial; though, Kojiro and Musashi both went to it, and Kojiro had put in about as much of a good word as he could for me. It irritated me so much. I could not understand what his angle was. I did not want to understand in all honesty.

But with only Kojiro as a representative for my side and a cheap lawyer that just barely kept himself from falling asleep, I had no chance. My attitude probably was not helping much either, but I had trouble taking much seriously except my anger. So I ended up in prison.

I hated it.

I hated it, but it seemed to cool me down somewhat. Maybe it was the lack of heat, maybe it was the silence. Hey, maybe some remnant of the shadow juice had finally left my system! I didn't know. It was a good thing; that's all I know. Otherwise that conversation with Dr. Izumi probably would not have ended like it had.

He had been hunting me down a few years by the time he discovered I had been sent to prison in Hoenn. What did he want with me? I had no idea, but I felt so bored and probably lonely at first to bother with why when the guards had me ushered to my visitor who stood on the other side of that mesh barrier.

"Are you willing to prove yourself worthy of release?" he asked.

"What prisoner wouldn't?" I grumbled, and I asked him what he wanted.

Scientists with something to hide was never a good thing in my opinion.

"I've been hunting down all the post victims of the shadow agent project," explained the good doctor, and he said that when he learned of my predicament he wanted to see if he could not reopen my case and have me released.

"I'm mostly in prison because of my honest crimes I committed before the shadow crap," I told him.

"I know," said Izumi, "and that's exactly my point. You have not done anything too illegal since then, and—"

"Does stealing pocket change for _sake_ count?" I asked with a shrug.

"Well," said Izumi. "That's where you come into this. I don't want to make a big deal about this until I know you're willing to live honestly, and not honestly criminal either."

I shrugged again, but after a thoughtful pause and leaning back in my chair with hands behind my head in casual repose, I said, "I think I can manage that, Doctor."

Dr. Izumi did not look too positive, especially in light of my seemingly sarcastic reaction.

Oh, I had to give him a hard time. Don't ask me why. I truly was willing to live honestly by that point. I would rather have an honest life than no life at all, which is what I had been living, no life, ever since the shadow thing. One could argue that I had never lived my whole life seeing as I ended in being betrayed by the one people I gave my whole body, mind and loyalty of my soul to like a false religion or a wild cult, but I certainly had not had one in the past ten plus years both wandering the world as if I had already died and remained on earth to haunt it and trapped in prison. If living an honest life meant a life at all, I wanted it. I may not have shown it at the time to Izumi, but I ached for it like he could not believe.

Sitting up I leered at the professor.

"Do you really think they'll buy it, though?" I demanded.

"Oh, I think they will, if you mean it," he told me. "Hoenn is not known for strict imprisonment."

"Neither is Kanto," I said with a shrug. "Only Unova is strict with prisoners, and Sinnoh. It's hard even to use bail in Sinnoh."

"The Orre Region is pretty strict too," Izumi said.

"Still," I said. "I have a long history. I'm not sure how much my sentence can be shortened with good behavior."

He was smarter than he looked even if he was a brain scientist. He was at least half a true to life genius in law as well. Izumi surprised me.

My sentence was shortened from twenty years to five, and I was already on my third by that point. I had to continue a community service of a sort, and if I committed any major crime again I would be sentenced to life in prison.

I could deal with that. Not planning to join a gang or team any time soon, I had no reason to commit crimes alone, especially with not even a partner. The problem was what was I going to do now?

_**JAPANESE PHRASES:**_

_Doushiteno_: Are you okay?

_Gomen_: sorry (informal setting)


	4. Four

JMJ

(4)

One on one side

Nearly overflowing,

One on other not one drop

_Any resentment he felt was only for his friend, for his friend had been given that phanpy by his pokémon trainer older brother. However, Kosaburo could feel nothing else but awe in these professional pokémon thieves who had invaded this park._

_It had been a festival day and a very nice and sunny day. Everyone who owned pokémon who happened to be in town (and with the annual pokémon competitions there were a lot of out of towners for that) had brought their pokémon with them. The park had been a prime spot being one of the only interesting places in town. All had been completely calm, placid even, and then they arrived. _

_Six of them. Kosaburo made sure to look to see how many there were. All leapt out in a cloud of smoke, and with sinister laughter they set to their work stealing every last pokémon in sight. Only very small people or people laying on the ground could see what they were up to, so even though a very young Kosaburo could only just make out the legs of the thieves most of the time, he took everything in greatly impressed._

_Never had he looked up to anyone that he had not read about or seen on television before except maybe the director who ran the school plays, but that was nothing compared to this. While everyone else screamed and ran or tried to fight back, Kosaburo was still and in a fixed trance at the fear these people instilled and their complete confidence in their abilities, so that he did not even flinch when they plucked his friend's phanpy right from the other boy's hands from where he stood not but two yards away from Kosaburo._

_The thought proved almost involuntary as if someone else was speaking it to him: _I want to be like them_._

_As the youngest child of a competitive group of siblings who were constantly making his life miserable, his heart burned for recognition beyond just that of the little Kusajima boy, the son of that drunken fool Yoshiki Kusajima, or that poor, miserable woman Aoi Kusajima, and especially not the that dumb kid who tagged after his older brothers and other older cliques at school for attention. He wanted real recognition. To be a somebody. He wanted to be part of something worth being part of. He wanted Team Rocket!_

_And he would have it if it was the last thing he did. He would never come back to this miserable little town ever again unless it was to steal from it as a member of Team Rocket …_

#

This little town in the flat land between Johto and Kanto possessed no hill or rise of any kind up which one could overlook it. There would not be much to look out over anyway, not in this little town. Not a lake or river adorned it, no pretty old fashioned building to brighten it, even trees were lacking. One might see the ugly, old factory on the far side of town, but I had no desire to see it.

I never in a million years thought I would return to this little dump of a place. As I made my way into town, I saw that despite the fact that I had always considered it the most boring place on earth, it had not been run down as some of the neighborhoods were now. That was because the factory closed for not keeping up with the times, and now most people who could have left before they got trapped here had. The people who remained were those who had been too poor to have left to begin with.

It did not surprise me when I learned that the Kusajima family lived here still.

I knocked on the door of the house, still the same house I had left, except that the door was smaller and the house itself looked more beat up. It had company now though. This neighborhood happened to be one of the ones that had been rundown. It was hardly a few blocks away from the remains of the factory. My father had worked there. Once.

We were not poor, at least not always. We lived modestly but well in a house just outside of town, but I was four when we moved. One of my earliest memories is thinking how very large our new house was, yes, large, but I had no recollection of the first house we lived in. You see my father and mother were addicted gamblers. They gambled on pokémon competitions and eventually on the leagues themselves, especially Kanto since Kanto was considered far more professional than Johto. What else do people care about in this Nation obsessed with pokémon battling anyway? My parents won just a few weeks after my fourth birthday, and they bought the biggest house that could be found in the rural area. It felt like living in a palace, that house, and encouraged by their winnings, instead of calling it good enough and living happily in our palace, they wanted to see if they could not get a private island or something.

They lost everything.

We ended up in the poorest neighborhood in town. My father took to drinking, and oh yes, of course he still worked at the factory, but almost everything he earned was spent on his drink or my mother's frantic gambles. People thought it was my father doing the gambling or at least putting my mother up to it, but my father had given up gambling in a sort of despair. It was not until my brother got old enough to work that we started living better again — that is until he caught gambling fever too.

My sister, my other brother and I hated the gambling, and although I did not get along with my siblings on most things, we made a pact together one day to never gamble our lives away, to never gamble anything ever!

All that flashed through my mind now, as pathetic as it was, that and the day I left. My second older brother just got a job at the factory, and my sister who was in between my two brothers and was about sixteen was trying to escape everything by marrying some farmer whose name escaped me at the moment, and I … well, I announced to my parents bright and early in the morning (my father was half asleep with a hangover), "I'm going out to be a pokémon trainer!"

#

"_A pokémon trainer?" _

_Had they heard right?_

_His father thought he must be still dreaming, and his mother only stared in disbelief and poured herself a strong cup of coffee._

"_I'm leaving today!" cried the boy brightly. "I'll write, I guess, but I'm leaving now!"_

"_Now?" they demanded._

"_Yes, now!" laughed the boy with a shake of his head, and he adjusted his backpack over his shoulder._

"_But, Kosabu-chan," said his mother. "You don't have any pokémon."_

_His father muttered something about going back to bed and something about Kanto winnings, and turned back through the tiny hallway to his bedroom as he clutched the side of his head with a groan._

"_Yoshiki!" cried Mrs. Kusajima. "He's serious!"_

_She threw her face from the corridor back to her son._

"_Yes, I am and yes I do!" Kosaburo said proudly_

_He did not tell her that he talked a friend into letting him borrow one of his pokémon to catch the pidgey or that he caught the pidgey from somebody's bird sanctuary (practice for the future), but he explained that he used his allowance money to buy the pokéball, which he now presented before his surprised mother._

"_I didn't know you wanted to be a trainer," his mother protested. "You kept saying how much you wanted to be a TV actor or a travel agent or I think you've even said something about being a pilot, but this?"_

_Kosaburo shrugged._

"_I changed my mind," he told her._

"_Well, this is so sudden!" his mother said._

"_Does this mean that you don't want me to go?" Kosaburo asked with a well-acted pout._

"_I … I suppose you can, but shouldn't you have asked us first?" asked his mother._

"_You were busy," he said simply._

"_Well, I still think you better talk this over with your father and me a little when he's feeling better," said his mother._

_Kosaburo sighed. "I suppose you're right, Oksasan."_

_Mrs. Kusajima eyed the boy suspiciously, but she said nothing more about it while she made him breakfast and he disappeared up into his room. Little did she consider that Kosaburo would sneak out the window and run for the train station. He produced his ticket and was on his way to leaving the miserable little town for good before she had finished cleaning up breakfast._

_He was not eager to be a pokémon trainer, naturally. Kosaburo did not even like pokémon, but he could not have told his parents he was going to become a member of Team Rocket even if he did sneak out on them. He did not have time to wait a few days. He had secretly set up an appointment with a scout weeks ago for this very day. He had no time for discussions._

#

Even if I had thought I would ever return, I never would have imagined coming as I was. Shaggy, worn, looking past my age by maybe ten years, not to mention the remains of a beer gut that I had never wanted after seeing what had happened to my father. I suppose the phrase "like father like son" is truer than I realized. When the old woman who was my mother opened the door, she thought I was a tramp and she tried to shoo me away.

"No, wait!" I cried, holding open the door before she could slam it in my face. "It's your son!"

Through her broad rimmed glasses she squinted at me, studying my face and piercing my eyes, and then stepping back in surprise, she breathed, "Kosaburo?"

I don't know what I had expected, but not what had happened. I would have preferred outright rejection to what past that day. She tried to be polite. She offered me lunch. She talked a little, but the coolness in her manner was not lost upon me. I did not have the heart to tell her that I had not been a pokémon trainer but a Team Rocket agent all this time, so I lied about some travels and pokémon I caught, basing it loosely on what I knew about the trainers I had stalked, stole from, or kidnapped. She did not seem to care what I said or how I put it, but I did end up telling the stupid, pathetic lie that I looked the way I did because I was doing the whole wilderness living thing. She did not believe that for a second. By that point she probably discredited everything I had said so far anyway, but she said nothing about it. She remained polite, poured some tea and straightened herself upon her knees where she knelt in front of the old fashioned table.

I left that evening disappointed and feeling sick to my stomach, and I told myself I would never go back to that miserable house or that miserable town again.

#

"_You?" demanded the scout. "You're Kosaburo Kusajima?"_

_No one had yet called him Kosanji, so the disdain with which this old scout said his name caused a rage to boil inside of him._

"_You're just a stupid kid," the scout scoffed, and she laughed. "I mean we appreciate youth here at Team Rocket, but you're what? Nine? Ten? You're probably not even old enough to be a legal trainer. Not that legality matters. And what about your skills with pokémon?"_

"_I have skills in acting," Kosaburo said in his defense, and he kept his cool very well. "And I'm a good liar, and a thief. I'm also a very good learner."_

"_Hmm," the scout mused._

_Kosaburo frowned as he noticed the look of humor in her eyes._

_He did not realize that the scout was testing him and that she could care less how young he happened to be. Team Rocket would recruit five year-olds if it had the chance. They loved the energy and the unquestioning nature of youth. The younger they came to Team Rocket, the more loyal and better trained they would be in their prime._

"_Tell you what," said the scout as if the thought just came to her. "I'll bring you to Saffron City with me, how's that sound. If you can pick enough pockets to satisfy me I'll think about giving a good word for you at Headquarters as a good go-between or agent assistant. How's that sound? 'Course if they say yes, you'll need additional training, and even between being an assistant (a very demanding job), you'll have a lot of tedious learning to do at Headquarters …"_

"_I'm ready for anything," promised Kosaburo, straitening himself proudly and crossing his arms over his chest with a curt nod. "I'll do better than pick pockets. I'll steal you a genuine pokémon! I promise Team Rocket won't be disappointed" And here he winked to seal the deal._

_The scout looked thoughtful again, and Kosaburo watched her with suspicion, but after a moment's pause, she leaned forward with a broad smile and hands wrapped around her back with neat grace._

"_Alright, little imp," said the woman. "Prove yourself."_

_And with a wave of her hand, she brought him to a bus station. The bus took them to Saffron City, and here Kosaburo proved himself, for you see, Kosaburo had done his research well, and following rules to a T happened to be strong point in Kosauburo's character. He knew that more than proving the fact that he could steal pokémon, the way to impress Team Rocket was with treachery. He did not steal a pokémon here, though he had taken the pidgey from a bird sanctuary. About an hour and a half after he left the scout's side trying to come up with a good enough story to make the scout believe he had stolen the pidgey just outside Saffron City, he came trouncing back with the creature. A big smile he plastered on his face. _

_Did she believe him? Kosaburo never knew for sure, but she was impressed, especially considering his age and experience._

"_I think you've just proven all four of your claims," said the scout with a knowing smirk. "Giovanni will be lucky to have an agent like you on board the Rocket ship one day."_

_Where Kosaburo went wrong was that he ate up every word of this kind she told him just like every other bushy-tailed, young future agent a scout brought under the metallic Rocket wing. Such talk to such lonely hearts, lost and feeling unwanted, this is what earned the undying loyalty of the agents, that and the promise of power from the strongest Team in the Nation and possibly the whole world._

#

I wandered a while again, but only within the boundaries of Kanto. Eventually, I settled in Vermillion City, and with as much energy as I could muster in my gloom, I used a rehabilitation program to get a meager job as a sales' clerk. All those times I pretended to be selling something, I never would have imagined that I would have been in such a position honestly, yet, there I was, and there I remained for some time with no real inspiration to move up or change jobs for anything better. I lost myself in memories of the past and in the roadblocks I put against any chance of a future for me. I got up, went to work, slept. No friends, no family, nothing. I still had no life, and that was when I came to the decision that I failed at life long ago, and would never get it back, but as usual it was not my fault.

I blamed my parents. They failed at life first. Like father like son. When I visited that little shack, my mother had told me that he had died of a heart attack from drinking too much. Maybe I would die of something wretched like that too. The bottle was beginning to look appealing again, despite this new knowledge.

_#_

_Lightning struck the sky in a dangerous display of jagged streaks near pink. A tower not far away already received the sharp attack of thunderbolt, but because of its lightning rod the tower remained for the most part unscathed. And the rain? The rain pelted like a shower of stones, so heavy and strong did it fall. Most who could, remained safely indoors both human and pokémon alike or at least in what shelter that could be had. _

_Humans and their pokémon hid in warm cozy bedrooms. Ratattas scurried into their holes after swiping what they could from the dumpsters. Some nyaasus and other larger street scavengers hid in dumpsters or in corners they could manage. City birds which had already been in their hidden nests watched with relief when a lightning streak flashed through the sky and had not struck their lofty homes. There were one or two humans who hurrying to their homes and some still who were unfortunate enough to be living among the wild street creatures, and one in particular a street over was huddled under an awning with a heavy, old trench coat and a rain hat to cover him._

_The little nyaasu who trudged along the sides of the buildings did not know about the man otherwise he may have come to him for protection, but this nyaasu had been used to a warm pillow-laden box in his master's attic. The last koneko left after a few months of siblings going their way, when he was discovered as the last remaining, the master sent this nyaasu on a trip to a relative, but the nyaasu did not understand. He escaped the box when it opened on a bump of the vehicle. Then he slipped out when the driver opened the door for gas. When the nyaasu had tried to make it home, he eventually found himself in the predicament he lost himself in now._

_Homeless. Wet. Hungry. Miserable._

_After weeks, almost months now he had been wandering, and not once did he find what he sought._

_Then he saw a door._

_It is difficult to say why he chose this door and not any other, but he went straight up to it nonetheless. Perhaps it reminded him of the door of the house in which he had lived before, or maybe a smell lingered about that made him think of home. Whatever the reason, he perched in front of it and began to meow pitifully._

"_Nya-a-a! Nya-a-a! Nya-a-a! Nya-a-a-a-ah!" he cried, but no one came to answer._

_That was when the late-night bus stopped on the street corner and let someone out._

_With a cock of his head, the nyaasu looked curiously at the rather intimidating umbrella, but as desperate as he was, he felt willing to see what person might be holding it. Maybe he would be lucky, and the person would at least give up a bite to eat._

"_Nyah!" he gasped and bounded toward the squeaky, wet boots, and jumping on his hind legs and making himself as pleasing as possible he asked, "Nya?"_

_The man glanced down with a sort of disdain, but the nyaasu knew the man was just tired from a long day. He did look very tired and worn. Perhaps he would sympathize with a creature equally as tired and worn._

"_Nya?" asked the nyaasu again._

_With a roll of his eyes, the man simply walked right past the cat and went straight up the steps to the door next to the one the nyaasu had been trying to get into._

_Losing his balance as he turned to follow the man, the nyaasu scrambled up the steps and leapt up at the man's legs in a last desperate attempt to get his attention. Rubbing against his leg did not work, giving a last pleading "nya" did not work. The man reached for his keys, unlocked the door and was just about to open it when he glanced one last time at the cat little more than a kitten._

_With a loud moan, he reached into another pocket and pulled out the remains of an energy bar in a wrapper. He pulled it out, threw it down the steps, and the nyaasu, quite surprised and delighted, sprang after it. When he gobbled it up and turned to look up the steps, the man closed the door behind him, and the nyaasu felt strangely pleased with himself, though disappointed that the man had left him out in the rain._

#

The next day when I came home to the apartment from work I saw him. The stupid nyaasu had curled up and made himself at home right on the pillow. Luckily my pillow was covered with the quilt, but that still meant the cat would get his dirty hairs all over my quilt. The nyaasu meowed lazily and seemed to smile at me as I approached.

I closed my eyes, trying very hard to keep my tempter down, but when I opened them again I had to wonder how he got in. My eyes went straight for the open window. I had left it open for the heat that had been scheduled for that afternoon, but I should have known better than to open it any more than a crack. Stepping up to the window now I pushed it up to its full capacity and lifting up the cat I dropped him onto the sidewalk outside. It was not far; I lived on the first floor. Then I slammed the window shut thinking I had seen the last of him, but I was wrong …

I woke up in the morning with the sound of my alarm going off. Work did not start till the afternoon and did not end until nine pm, and my clock was set for 8:45 and nothing earlier. I used to get up at a strict 6:00 when I worked with Yamato. Switching off the alarm with a sigh and leaning upon my arm I closed my eyes a moment, letting my mind catch up with my waking body.

As I turned around I nearly let out a shriek to see the living creature sleeping on the other side of my bed.

"Ack!" I cried.

The nyaasu leapt to his feet before I could push him off, and he bounded to the end of the bed with a cry.

"What do you think you're doing in my house?" I demanded. "How did you get in here?!"

"Nya," said the nyaasu with an innocent cock of his head.

I glared at him, but the nyaasu began to purr of all things, and I digressed with a groan, slumping my shoulders and leaning my head back against the headboard.

It took a while for me to throw back my covers, and taking the cat up, I opened the window again and tossed him out onto the sidewalk outside. Slamming it shut again, I checked all the windows and found the open one, closed it, and then got dressed.

#

"_Nya-a-a-ah!" the nyaasu cried again on the other side of the window. "Nya! Nya! Nya!"_

_The wind blew another fierce spray of rain in the direction of the windowsill upon which the nyaasu had himself perched. He lowered his head and tried to shield himself, but it did no good until the gust ceased and he was soaked._

"_Nya! Nya! Nya! Nya!" he cried again._

_Suddenly the light turned on inside, and the nyaasu with ears perked up looked with interest as he watched the blurry form of the man through the rain-covered window pane. He turned to the window, and after a moment he turned out the light and apparently went back to sleep._

"_Nya! Nya! Nya! Nya! Nya, Nyah!"_

_This time the light did not turn on, and the nyaasu just caught himself from leaping right off the windowsill when he saw the man right in front of the window. He cried out with delight when he saw the man opened the window. Instantly, the cat leapt inside, and the man slammed the window shut._

"_Nya," said the cat as he beamed up at the man._

_The man made a face._

"_I hate nyaasu," he grumbled. "And don't you dare think you can sleep on my bed, got it?"_

"_Nya!"_

#

Sometimes that nyaasu was there when I woke up, right in front of my face, and sometimes he would be gone for weeks and I thought I was rid of him, but he always came back. Somehow he always came back, like that song. The cat always came back. The only thing was though as time wore on, I actually found pleasure in his return, not that I would admit it to myself or the nyaasu. After years of being entirely alone it felt a little nice to have something living with me even if only a pokémon, and a nyaasu …

I never fed him. I never named him. I did not even call him "Nyaasu". That name had already been claimed by that most annoying pokémon in the world that happened to be owned by Musashi and Kojiro, or who owned them. It was difficult to say with that freak, or so I thought for a while until I came to realize that all cats had that way about them whether they talked or not.

The one who roomed with me when he felt it convenient, strangely enough, paid for his stay in the weirdest way imaginable. At first he tried to lay dead ratatta in front of the door. I put a stop to that right away, but the nyaasu never gave up easily. When he realized how upset I would be to see dead rodents first thing when I opened the door or looked out a window, he took to putting trash in my windows. Shiny trash of course, but trash nonetheless. He brought wrappers, other times broken watches or half rusted tools. He sometimes found game tokens and pennies, and he often brought random chunks of metal, none too dirty not to see the shine. My windowsills began to look like sleazy pawnshop window displays.

At first I threw the stuff away, but after a while I just let it accumulate. He did mean it all as presents of some kind, for he often set them at my feet as he had with the ratatta so that eventually I accepted the pay.

One particular morning, more than a year after the first nyaasu incident, late summer was upon me again, and storms had been bad. The nyaasu for some reason was not there when I woke up. I found myself wondering if something bad had happened to the creature having not been around during such bad weather, but I told myself that that cat could more than take care of himself and was probably on the other side of town or farther. Maybe he had even found himself another place to room when he did not feel like staying with me.

When I got to work I had not been there an hour before the electricity went out. It did not come back on. They sent me home early. I was feeling sucky. The world felt so monotonous and pointless, and the grey miserable weather was not helping. I tried the nearest bus stop and found that it was not coming for quite some time, and due to the weather it would probably be later than the scheduled time anyway.

I got something to drink, but I stopped myself before getting too drunk. At least I thought I had, but after I exited I felt sourer than I had before.

With my bent umbrella I wound through alleys and byways. I should not have been surprised to find myself stopped by a gang; though it was their voltorb that really had startled me. Not because of its presence alone, but because it already sent out a few sparks at my approach. In the dampness, one electric attack from that round ball and that would have made the perfect end to my miserable day.

"Ah, lookie guys, some dude seems to have lost his way."

The first punk, maroon hair spiked straight up on his head, appeared from the shadows and the laughs from the others followed before they appeared.

The presence of the gang lessened my shock rather than propelled it, but I would be lying if I did not say that despite their idiocy I felt nervous. I said nothing and hoped they would pass by without too much trouble, but there was no hope for that. The biggest of them all and not the stupidest, unfortunately for me, stepped forward and crossing his great arms he said simply, "Wallet." He held out his hand for it.

"You gotta be—"

He turned to the pokémon and said, "Voltorb use—"

"_Iya_! _Iya_!" I cried, holding up my hands in my defense.

The voltorb had been starting to use an attack before his master had been able to call it.

With a sigh of defeat, I reached into my pocket and handed them my wallet.

The gang leader then sorted through my money. They had no interest in my ID, except to say that they found my name amusing. Kosaburo Kusajima. They even handed my wallet back to me after they had drained it of its cash. Everything would have run smoothly after that if one of them had not said, "Kinda reminds me of the name Kosanji."

Rage flared up inside, and though I made a conscious effort to keep it to myself, I finally could not take it. After a few stupid chuckles better off ignored, I spun around and with a snarl I screamed, "_KOSABURO_!"

The gang looked at each other and laughed. The leader, grabbed me by the scruff of my collar, and with a wide grin tossed me into the grimy puddles of the alleyway, but I was by now too angry to let that get me down. I sprang back to feet, and I screamed at them all to leave me alone and that my name was Kosaburo and that they had better get over it or I would have them all arrested for harassment and theft.

It was one of the only times since the shadow incident that I wished I had my old pokémon or even Yamato's ratticate to help me out.

"Alright, Kosanji!" they said.

"Voltorb, teach him some manners," said the leader. "Spark."

At least they had not ordered him to used thunderbolt, but maybe spark was the only offensive attack it really knew. I doubt they trained him much, but in the mist and as soaking wet it had more of an affect that it otherwise would have.

I was unconscious apparently, for when I opened my eyes after that flash of bright light, the gang could not be found, and even the sprinkling and mist had stopped for the time being. Pulling myself numb from the grime, I picked up my wallet with a shaky hand and managed to shuffle it into my pocket before I reached down for my umbrella and made my way to the edge of the city.


	5. Five

JMJ

(5)

Hidden life

Inside the shell

Will it come out in spring?

_The baby was due in a couple of months. At the moment, that future baby was all that Kojiro had on his mind. A tiny, pink new life made with the combination of his blood and Musashi's, the thought swam dizzily in Kojiro's head. Musashi and he had spent many a happy afternoon planning everything. They poured over names upon names of the most exotic and wonderful. Clothes and toys they set (they were sure she would be a girl) in pink and light purple. Musashi and Kojiro would just sit and think about the baby before a quiet fire in the most romantic and dreamy setting, both future parents with a hand over the womb where the baby became more and more active with anticipation to come out of the warm darkness to see the world beyond!_

_Sometimes also, Kojiro's thoughts proved ill at ease too, but not because he did not want the child. He feared in a way that he may not be worthy to care for that new life under his charge._

_What if he would make a terrible father? _

_What if he and Musashi had a relapse and returned to Team Rocket, leaving the baby to grow up with Rocketers as parents and eventually becoming one too?_

_A shudder ran through him and he squeezed his eyes shut as he spun away from the window he had been looking out._

_Kojiro stood in the house of Uncle Akio. Last Christmas and the year before he had convinced his parents to invite him and his family to their Christmas party and now for the first time in many years Jiro-san did not host a party but accepted his brother's invitation at his son's insistence to go to a Christmas party at his house._

_Although smaller that the Niwa mansion and estate, this house felt more solid, and more beautiful than the monstrous structure Kojiro had grown up in. The traditional beams of woodwork, the Japanese styled garden in the back, the western-styled medieval chapel to the east — it all felt more peaceful and somehow more home to Kojiro than his parents' estate. _

_Now as he opened his eyes to the wall before him, his eyes fell on a painting which struck him. All worry about the child vanished as he stared at it. Something stirred in his memory like a dream, yet he knew it was not a dream however much the events bursting into his mind now felt like something that could not have been real._

_He knew better._

_Touching his arm with an involuntary wince even though the wound did not hurt anymore, he knew that the scar remained under his aristocratic, merino wool sweater. With a slight shudder he recalled that surreal nightmare of a night when he stood all alone in the wood with dozens of little creatures surrounding him, mocking him and waiting for him to go crazy. He swung his wooden katana blindly but got lucky and hit a couple. That's when they really got going, and one decided to bite him with all the strength its jaws possessed._

_But the picture itself, which hung on the wall before him did not fill him with dread although it brought thoughts of everything that happened while he, Nyaasu, and Musashi were trapped in that other world. He remembered now something he had nearly forgotten, especially in light of the near future. The woman in the painting reminded him of a dream he had there. Or maybe it had not been a dream at all. Kojiro could not be sure anymore. He had been locked in that monster's tower and all hope had almost been lost for him. He would have relinquished his soul to those creatures, and he would have been the Kaiser they dreamed of this very day, but for one thing …_

"You know what you have to do, don't you?" she said.

"I have to escape," he answered …

"_Kojiro-kun?"_

_Waking from his thoughts, Kojiro spun around and saw one of his cousins behind him. She was younger than him by two years and on the few occasions he had visited his uncle as a child, she was the one who wanted to play with the quiet, little boy the most, since her sisters had been too old to want to and her boy cousins on her mother's side had been mostly very loud, rowdy boys that Kojiro did not understood at the time._

"_What are you doing here?" she asked. Her name was Aya._

"_I was just thinking," said Kojiro, glancing back at the painting._

"_Yes?" asked Aya._

"_Who painted this picture here?" Kojiro said, pointing even though her eyes had already followed his gaze._

_Aya smiled. "Oh," she said, drawing into the room and near his side. "That painting's a Niwa family heirloom. It was commissioned by Aisling before she died."_

"_Is that her?" Kojiro cried suddenly quite alarmed._

_Aya laughed. "Don't be silly. Why would she commission a painting of herself? No! It's from her country. She wanted a bit of home. Ryota had it hanging in the dining room at the Niwa Estate after Aisling died, and it was hanging in one of the parlors before Jiro-san let my father take it along with a few other things he did not mind him taking when he left the estate to make our home here."_

"_But who is she then?" asked Kojiro. "The girl in the painting? I feel like, uh … well, that I've seen her before. Is that … silly?"_

_Aya then grew very grave, and studying him a moment, she said, "No. I don't think it's silly at all."_

"_Then who is she? Aisling's mother?"_

_Looking thoughtful a moment, Aya then motioned Kojiro to the window. Kojiro followed though with hesitance as he wondered what his cousin could want to show him out the window. Following her finger, he looked out at the eccentrically decorated trees and yard. Uncle Akio and his family certainly outdid themselves as far as decorating, but as his eyes followed the lights, ribbons, silver and gold trimmings, and solid outdoor bulbs, they rested on a nativity scene. Kojiro had thought it had mostly been put out as a Western fashion statement of sorts like many other people that threw about random Western things. Hey, his parents celebrated the whole of Christmas for that very reason — that and it was Niwa family tradition to hold a Christmas party for all the aristocratic elite. Now as he turned to Aya, he knew it was put out there more religiously than he ever could have guessed._

_With a nod from Aya, Kojiro turned again. Since there was only one woman in the little family of statues under the tree, she could only be who Aya meant even though that plastic, bland figure could not compare in the least with the woman in the painting._

_His eyes fell upon the baby a moment._

_The Baby for which this holiday was originally celebrated._

_That little family had one night been far colder and forsaken by the world than Kojiro and his family would be when his child was born._

_Once more Kojiro withdrew from the window, and he looked very gravely at his cousin who gave a strange smile in return. For a fleeting moment he thought that perhaps his cousin was insane, but when he thought of the strange rescue he had had, for it was more of a rescue than a mere dream, and of the painting now hanging in his uncle's house, he had to wonder._

_Kojiro wondered if the woman in the painting who had rescued him, if it had been she who had rescued him, had meant for him to have this moment here at Uncle Akio's house. If she had, what did it mean for him?_

#

"N—n—nanda_!" squeaked Kojiro. "But, but—"_

"_I'm serious, Kojiro," said his father. "Especially after what happened. You know that after we're gone, it'll be your duty to take care of the estate. Your mother and I were already discussing it with you before this. You should not act surprised."_

"_I know but …" Kojiro began but it ended in a sigh, and he closed his eyes in defeat._

_His family and he had come when Kojiro learned that his mother had been gravely ill. She had been hospitalized in the city for almost a week. She was returning now home safe and for the most part well, but the truth of mortality had fallen upon all involved, and Kojiro knew that neither his mother nor father were as young as they used to be. At first he wanted to say that he would promise he would take over the estate once his parents were gone, but he could not bring himself to say it. He did not want to live at the estate, but his parents had been talking to him about it since he had moved out to that little place a few miles from the estate the first time before it burned down. They wanted him here. They wanted him to take over the estate now. He knew it. It made his heart ache, but he knew that he had run from his duty long enough._

_He nodded gravely and lowered his head._

_Unlike his uncle he had not legally given up his title to his brother. He was powerless in this regard, and as Jiro's only son, although he did have just as much a choice as his uncle, he knew that he could not dishonor his parents. After all, his parents had not disowned him like his grandfather had done to his uncle. Besides his uncle only had girls. That made Kojiro the only male heir at the moment anyway, and as the legality of the estate was specifically to stay within the surname of Niwa unless one of his cousins' husbands wanted to change their name or some of his half cousins started getting involved, what else could Kojiro do? If that was not enough, Uncle Akio already said that he would love to see Kojiro take over the estate too. So the original heir, though legal heir no longer wanted him to take over too. He was stuck._

"Hai_, Chichi, I'll take the Niwa Estate."_

_A smile grew on Jiro's face, and it surprised Kojiro until it sank in how deeply his mother and father had longed for him to live here. It sent a feeling of guilt through him, but he brushed it aside. He knew his reasons for choosing not to live at the estate made his decision almost necessary in the younger stages of his family. He simply wanted a life more satisfying for his family. Away from the stuffiness of tutors, aristocracy, and extreme manners and rules and family hierarchy._

Come on! Your family's strong now, _he told himself._ Maybe it _is_ time to go back.

_#_

_Stalking through the grass the little hunter watched his prey. He saw him approaching. His prey was on the lookout, and the hunter knew he looked out for him. A smile grew upon the hunter's face as he readied himself for his attack. Then just as the prey's head was near enough to his hidden rock he leapt out._

"_Yah!" cried Kojiro as the hunter leapt onto his back._

_Losing his balance Kojiro fell to the ground with the little one still clinging to his back. As he lifted himself he looked behind him though he knew who had caught him, and he could not help but smile despite the suddenness of it and the fact he was on the ground._

"_Gotchya," said Mitzu with a laugh._

"_Alright, now!" said Kojiro in a mock graveness. "What's the big idea attacking innocent people minding their own business? Huh?"_

_Mitzu laughed again and grabbed him around his neck._

"_C'mon, _'Toochan_, I gotchya! Carry me!"_

"_Oh, no you don't," said Kojiro standing up now._

_Reaching behind him with a wild grin, he snatched the little rascal and tickled him as he set him on the ground._

"Iya_! _Iya_!" screamed the boy as he laughed, and then he began to tickle Kojiro._

_Kojiro gasped. "No! Wait! _Yamero_! Uncle! I give!"_

_But it was no use. He had tickled Mitzu now Mitzu would tickle him good, but he did not laugh for long as Kojiro snatched up the boy again and carried him at his side in a way so that he was half way upside-down, his wild black blue hair became a dandelion spray cast to one side as he continued to laugh, loving the fatherly rough housing. He forgot instantly about tickling._

"_Now I got you," Kojiro growled through his grin. "And you can't escape!" He laughed rather maniacally as he carried the boy like one carries a bag of contents of little importance._

_Or so it seemed for Kojiro only held him with the utmost care despite how it looked to the servant who had suddenly appeared, staring at this display of rowdiness upon the Niwa Estate with undisguised distaste. Kojiro may not have noticed him for some time except that when he made an abrupt turn he nearly ran right into the servant, and with a start of surprise and a slight cry he nearly dropped the little boy._

"_What?" asked Mitzu, and lifting his head he saw the servant and instantly his playfulness dropped like a stone._

_Setting the boy upright on the ground, Kojiro cleared his throat and laughed sheepishly._

"_Yes, is there something wrong?" he asked._

"_Kojiro-san," said the servant with a bow. "This letter is addressed to you and I was told to bring it directly to you for inspection."_

_Kojiro took the letter and the moment he looked at the return address he cringed._

"_Who said that I saw supposed to look at it?" asked Kojiro nervously._

_Mitzu looked from Kojiro to the servant and back again._

"_Your parents noticed that it was the first time she tried to write the estate in a long time and that it was addressed directly to you. They felt it was not their business to open it, especially since you are now head of the estate," said the servant respectfully. "They were hoping that it may be an apology of a sort."_

_With a heavy sigh, Kojiro grimaced at the envelope. He doubted it was an apology, and even if it was, he doubted it would be an honest one, but …_

_Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he thanked the servant and the servant withdrew._

"_Who's it from, 'Toochan!" cried Mitzu. "Who's it from?"_

"_Someone I used to know," said Kojiro, and he began to take the letter to a stone bench not far away._

_Mitzu followed curiously and took a seat beside his father. Leaning upon his knees and then standing up on the bench he leaned over Kojiro's shoulder and watched as Kojiro opened the letter._

"_What's it say?" asked Mitzu._

_Kojiro was too involved in the daunting feeling that had sudden befell him. This happened to be one of the reasons he did not want to return to the Niwa Estate. She had been banished from entering the estate for any reason, but in the small world of his aristocratic peers and family, she would come up eventually. He knew that she would._

_Before reading it, he took in the beautiful and perhaps a bit over flowery penmanship, and the fact that it was written in English. He also noticed the strong scent of French perfume of the most luscious scent. Kojiro bit his lip and wondered if he dared to read._

My dear esteemed Mr. Niwa—

_Kojiro squinted and closed his eyes a moment before reading on._

"_Oh."_

My dear esteemed Mr. Niwa,

It gives me the greatest pleasure to hear that you have returned to the Niwa Estate. No, there are no hard feelings. I have entirely forgiven and forgotten the past. I have long since been married to one of the richest men in Sinnoh, and he is the most delectably charming man and as handsome as the day I married him. I also have two lovely daughters and a handsome son all of whom are studying quite hard. My elder daughter is in boarding school and the other two are still being tutored at home. I hear you have quite a few children yourself—

_Reading her say anything about his children sent chills down Kojiro's spine and he glanced at Mitzu who had already lost interest in the letter. He now played in the ornamental pool and fountain and tried to touch one of the goldeen that lived there. As long as he did not try to swim in it, Kojiro supposed he would let him be for now. He read on._

—I hear you have quite a few children yourself, my dear, and I am absolutely happy for you. After all these years I would love to see you and your darling family. We're having a bit of a garden party for my elder daughter named after me, and I would like to invite you and your wife and children and your parents if they feel that they can, but I understand completely if they do not feel it honorable.

I hope you can forgive me, dear Kojiro. More than anything I hope your family and mine can be friends.

_Á tout à l'heure!_

With the sincerest wishes of all,

Rumika

_Kojiro groaned and slumped down in his seat._

"_Hey, 'Toochan!" gasped Mitzu._

"_Hmm?" asked Kojiro._

_He glanced up and the moment he did he leapt to his feet dropping the letter, for Mitzu had decided to climb into the fountain after all._

"_Wait! Wait, wait!"_

"Nani_?" asked Mitzu halting in the process of lifted his leg over the side._

_Kojiro plucked the boy off of the fountain and set him on the ground with a smile. "You don't want to do that."_

"_Why?" Mitzu demanded._

"_Because two reasons," said Kojiro. "One it belong to the estate and and two, and more importantly, you could get hurt."_

"_I'm careful!" Mitzu protested._

"_I know," said Kojiro with a smile, "but I don't want to take that risk."_

_Crossing his arms, Mitzu made a little pout, and Kojiro patted his shoulders._

"_C'mon, how 'bout we check on Okasan, how's that sound?"_

"_Mmm. Ichiro?"_

"_Ichiro's doing school stuff," said Kojiro. "After school. Next year you're gunna do that too, you know."_

_Mitzu looked less than thrilled about that. How the little boy would settle down enough to learn, Kojiro could not fathom, but Ichiro had been almost as wild and he was a good student now. For now Mitzu relented about the fountain and followed happily after his father to see how his mother was getting along if she was not helping with school._

_However, Kojiro did not forget to pick up the letter. As much as he wanted to, he could not ignore it, but could he really accept it either? His imagination already went wild with the possibilities of what may happen at that garden party, and it made him feel nauseous._

_The sky looked bleak still. It had rained not long before, and it most likely would rain again. After talking a bit with Musashi, he may want to clear his head regardless of the weather. Rain did not bother Kojiro in the least. He used to spend whole night sleeping out in it, but he had a strong feeling they would not be attending the party if Musashi had anything to say about it. This comforted him, and with a grin, he lifted Mitzu onto his shoulders and piggy-backed him into the manor._

#

It was a maddening case of déjà vu. Into the ditch with a spray of rain striking my head, I tripped feeling as if I had gone back a year or two before prison when I was always drunk and falling into ditches on say like today. Just as I decided to pull myself up, I felt the nose of a dog sniffing very close to my ear. With a low growl I forced my heavy eyes open and the dog sat back and cocked his head at me. An old growlithe. My eyes narrowed on him a moment, and then I saw _him_ just over the ditch on the road, wide-eyed and looking as stupid as ever under his wide black umbrella and expensive-looking trench coat.

"_Anata_!" I whispered in complete enraged disbelief.

Kojiro stepped back as if I had threatened him with a pistol, and the growlithe sensing his master's ill ease or maybe just my hostile reaction, began to growl at me.

"No, Gar-Chan," said Kojiro, waking from his stupor. "It's okay."

The growlithe made a protesting whine up at his master but backed up and allowed Kojiro onto the scene.

"You need help out of that …" his eyes squinted strangely and then he finished, "ditch? Kosaburo-san?"

"'Kosaburo-_san_!?'" I demanded.

Kojiro let out a loose shrug.

At least he had not called me Kosanji, but I knew by now that Kojiro although one of the first to call me that originally had no intention of using it now. I almost would have rather had him call me that now, as weird as that sounds. His obvious maturity, or whatever one would call it, proved far better than how I had aged, and it made my mind hiss like the steam of an old fashioned locomotive. But then another thought struck me as he held out his scrawny hand toward me.

"It's always you," I hissed.

"Are … are you drunk?" he asked timidly, and his fingers clutched tighter the handle of his umbrella.

"_No_!" I snarled.

Again the growlithe gave a warning growl, but he remained rooted beside his master under the umbrella. Too much rain pelting that pokémon was not good for him, yet I knew he would risk it on his master's command, if Kojiro chose, not that I feared Kojiro would.

For some reason I let out a laugh, and somehow that furthered Kojiro's resolve to help me out of the ditch. Leaning down, Kojiro stretched his hand out further to me, and I allowed him to pull me up despite his laughable, childish determination. Maybe that was even why I entertained him.

I could not help but notice how new and expensive his boots happened to be. I glared at them a moment and I had to wonder how Kojiro had gotten into such good fortune. I had to wonder how in the world he happened to be right here in this very spot where I was when he was supposed to be living way off in the Hoenn Region as he helped me across the unpaved road and onto the bench and under its tattered awning.

Still standing with his umbrella in the rain, Kojiro studied me a moment, and then he said, "What are you doing out here?"

"What am I …" I laughed again, this time long and full and no doubt sounded like the cackle of a mad man, but I was beginning to feel nut house worthy by this point anyway.

The end of my miserable day just became a trip to wonderland. I questioned how sober I could be. I remembered drinking early that afternoon but I now could not recall how many drinks I had actually had. This whole thing could be some kind of illusion, but I knew I could not be right.

"I spent all day having an exhilarating day off from work, missed the early bus home, got electrocuted by a voltorb, and they still call me that! After all these years, they still call me that! I can't stand it! It's Kosaburo! Kosaburo! Kosaburo! I hate them! And then, then, then I found myself in the middle of nowhere outside town and now _you_! You of all people! What am I doing here?" I cried, thrusting a finger out toward that scrawny, little man. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Uh … well," Kojiro began while twiddling his fingers. "I was just going for a walk." But I did not let him go on.

"It's always you!" I said. "Always you! It always was you! Ever since I met you! You and your crazy partner! Always messing up our plans, you bumbling idiots! And Yamato going on about how she hated Musashi! And you! Both of you! Everywhere I go, there you are! What do you want from me?"

"What, you think I do it on purpose!?" Kojiro squeaked. "Besides! I haven't seen you for years!"

I heard him, I registered it, but I did not listen to it.

"Well, I'm here now! I'm here! I give up! Okay? Tell me! What do you want?"

"Nothing!" Kojiro protested. "I just wanted to help you out of that ditch. That's all."

"Well, you're still here," I pointed out.

"You're talking to me," he said.

Is that what he called it?

I sighed, too weary to fight anymore or to sound insane, or even to be angry with that buffoon. It was not worth it.

"Hey," said Kojiro. "You okay?" Then he shook his head realizing the stupidity of his question. "I mean, uh … do you want me to call a cab or something?"

I rolled my eyes and groaned.

"I'm sorry you had a bad day," he said, "and I'm uh … I guess life's not going so well?"

With a shake of my head I leered at his still bug-eyed face.

"I don't know what I want," I grumbled. "I want my life, that's what I want."

"Well," said Kojiro hesitating before he continued. "Did you really mean that you wanted my advice?"

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," Kojiro said.

Closing my eyes a moment, I answered. "You have advice for me?"

"Uh …"

"_Jaa_, what?"

Kojiro cleared his throat. "If you want your life back," he said. "You have to earn it back."

We paused for a few minutes, me glaring at him, and he looking strangely earnest. The growlithe, now under the awning on the bench with me looked expectantly up his master and he too remained silent.

"How do you propose I do that?" I demanded.

"You give yourself your dignity," Kojiro told me.

Oh, I had dignity alright. I had sunk so low as to take advice from Kojiro. Kojiro Niwa. Licking Musashi's heals like a wounded puppy, chasing after that kid's stupid pikachu like an obsessed cat, pathetic, miserable, crazy, little freak Kojiro Niwa. But even as these thoughts ran through my mind I knew that that Kojiro Niwa no longer existed any more than the proud, cool Team Rocket agent Kosaburo Kusajima did, or anymore than Team Rocket itself stood for that matter.

"How?" I asked. "You managed it somehow, I take it."

"I guess so," said Kojiro.

"How then?" I pressed.

"Well, first," said Kojiro, "you should clean yourself up and look respectable, buy yourself some nice clothes and hold yourself like you care about yourself."

"I don't have any money," I growled.

Kojiro bit his lip and looked guilty for a moment; then he threw off his coat and handed it to me.

"Here," he said.

I glared down at it and then looking up at him very calmly, I told him, "I can't take that from you."

"Sure you can!" Kojiro insisted with a goofy smile. "It's no big deal. Really."

"You're crazy, you know that?" I demanded.

"Probably," said Kojiro with a shrug. "But go on take it. It's clean."

I rolled my eyes and replied, "I'm not afraid of cooties. Besides any cooties from you wouldn't affect anyone anyway."

Drooping somewhat, Kojiro looked away, even though his hand still held the coat out to me. With a low groan I took it and put it on if only to make him stop looking so pathetic. His look of surprise did not improve his appearance much, but I felt somehow satisfied.

"_Arigato_," I said, and I meant it strangely enough.

I could not deny the fact that his gesture touched me a little, especially after I had just insulted him.

"_Hai_," said Kojiro with a staggered nod, and then he said something that really took me aback. "If you want I'll be your friend."

"What?" I asked sharply.

"We don't need to be enemies anymore," said Kojiro. "And you look like you need one. Uh, a friend, I mean."

"I never had any friends," I protested. "I never wanted any friends."

"Maybe you still need one," he said.

I sighed. "Maybe."

There was a short pause.

"You want to be friends with _me_?" I then demanded.

"_Hai_," said Kojiro. "If you don't mind it."

With a shake of my head I just stared at him a moment, and then I said simply, "Alright."

Kojiro smiled.

"I still think you're crazy though," I warned him.

* * *

JAPANESE PHRASES:

_Chichi: father (as said by an adult child)_

_Toochan_: daddy

_Yamero: _stop

_Anata_: you


	6. six

JMJ

(6)

A futile dream

Bringing broken lives

To further shame

_Who would have ever guessed that Team Galactica would dare to get in the way of Team Rocket business? In the days of Old Team Rocket such an idea would be laughed to scorn. As far as Teams went Galactica had been a joke, but they had grown. In the absence of Giovanni, Team Galactica had grown strong, and with New Team Rocket slowly regaining what had been lost in its own regions, Team Galactica had been pretty much ignored until now._

_Team Rocket was still by no means weak. Their arsenal had grown, their fingers snuck into places for secret control, and though their numbers were not nearly as much as in Old Team Rocket, every agent now trained to the point of being at least worth two or three agents from the old days._

_When Team Galactica brought up their challenge, Team Rocket did not back down but in fact were proud to show what they were made of and would fight to the death if necessary to keep the regions of Kanto and Johto and even the Orange Islands. So far they were winning, though Galactica did put up a good fight._

_Both sides remembered what had happened between Team Rocket and Team Polsar. No one wanted a repeat of that horrific event, but the more the teams fought over territory with pokémon battles, and the more they sabotaged each others' work and spied on each other, the less fun it became. Everyone felt the tenseness between Rocket and Galactica. Anxious to move on with their personal business, Team Rocket wanted to end this war quickly, and Galactica, eager to expand with their new found power with annoying phrases such as "The entire galaxy will be Galactica's domain", wanted to end the conflict quickly as well before their moment of glory past them by. So far no one had been killed. There had been a couple serious injuries but those had been more the result of the victim's own doing and not the side of the enemy._

_This is how Yamato found herself near the water treatment center on the edge of Vermillion City. The dam overlooked the treatment center, not a huge dam, but large enough. From the bridge she watched, the tangle of trees and greenery hiding most of her unless someone happened to be looking directly at her, which aside from her partner, this proved doubtful. Holding a pair of binoculars, she studied the windows of the old, stone building below._

_This was for more private business than for the war between Team Galactica and Team Rocket, but Yamato knew that they would not be wasting their time here if Team Galactica had not been seen snooping around._

_It was not the treatment center that they wanted so much as the outpost. When workers were not around, not that it needed much staff anyway, Team Rocket could easily use it as a base to overlook the specialized water pokémon center, where the stronger or more aggressive water pokémon such as garydos would be taken in for the best quality care. With the river just behind it and the ocean not far away the location was perfect for the pokémon center. No doubt, Team Galactica thought it perfect as well, but Team Rocket beat them to it._

_Just now Yamato's partner was working there. It would have been suspicious if they had both applied at the same time, Yamato knew, with the size of the staff at the water treatment center. Together they decided on her partner being younger, more innocent looking, and just all around looking to be more likely to be the type of person who would even want a job there, should be the one to go._

_Besides, Yamato preferred her post as the watchful eye at the moment anyway. She did not like her partner. They got along well enough to work without getting into conflict, but Yamato at times despised him. For no reason really. She just found him naïve and annoying. His eagerness sometimes unnerved her, but Athena had long since decided that although she would keep the male to female partners, she preferred there to also be one older than the other to mentor the younger, and to keep unprofessional relationships out of the field._

_All other workers could be seen leaving for lunch, but her partner remained behind. The trap would be set behind their very backs. Team Rocket had developed a drug that although would do little harm to humans would put water pokémon into a drowsy state. The Pokémon Center below only housed water pokémon, and with all their pokémon asleep, they would be defenseless in a Team Rocket raid._

"_Almost set," she whispered as she watched the silhouette of her partner through the window of the water treatment center._

_He would put the drug in the water. The water would go straight to the Pokémon Center. The Pokémon Center would then be ripe for the taking._

"_Just don't do anything stupid", she muttered to her partner as if he stood beside her. "Stay on track, and don't let anyone—"_

"_Sneak up on you?" suggested a voice._

_Yamato let out a gasp of surprise and spun around._

_Two identically dressed and styled Team Galactica agents stood directly behind her. Although one female and one male as most team agents, like most Team Galactica agents even their hair had to be the same length and dyed the same crisp blue/green._

_It had been the male who had spoken first, and now the female said, "Surprised?"_

"_So how much do you think you're worth to Team Rocket as ransom?" asked the male agent._

"_Or do we just throw you over the bridge right now?" asked the female._

"_Oh, no you don't!" hissed Yamato, and snatching a pokéball from her belt she threw it onto the ground and released, well she almost released houndour (now a houndoom and not the same houndour she had owned before, for not one of her old pokémon had been found after the end of Old Team Rocket), but remembering the water, she released vaporeon, prematurely evolved perhaps, but she still fought well._

_The water fox readied herself for action as the other agents released theirs. They had come prepared however. One had a pikachu and the other a tropius._

"_Vaporeon!" cried Yamato, hoping that she could at least do enough damage or even distraction to get away. "Take down!"_

_All her other attacks were water based._

_Yamato should have grabbed her last pokémon, a flaffy, but she did not have the chance now._

"_Tropius, use leaf tornado!" cried the male agent._

"_And, Pikachu, thunder!" cried the female agent._

_The pokémon obeyed, and although the take down had hit tropius, both Galactica pokémon also attacked vaporeon. She was down in a moment. _

"_Houndoom, Flaffy!"_

_Yamato released both at once, but Team Galactica followed her example and both released a new pokémon of their own._

"_Fire spin!" shouted Yamato to houndoom. "Thunder!" she ordered of flaffy, and she dove past the agents. Or at least she tried to. With one on either side, she had to pass one to get off the bridge. She tried the male agent, but he grabbed her by the arm in her leap to safety. She landed flat on her back against the sharp metal grating that was the bottom of the bridge._

"_Oh …" she groaned._

_While she was down, the female agent snatched Yamato's communicator from her belt but had not gone far before Yamato snatched her by the wrist causing her to drop it. It rolled for the edge of the bridge, but just before it fell through the cracks to the bay, Yamato snatched it, and leapt to her feet, doing her best to ignore the pain in her spine._

_At least all pokémon and both agents were on one side of her now, and she could return her pokémon past them and dart in the opposite direction to escape or at least get better ground and call her partner as backup. She returned her pokémon and was just turning to follow her plan, when she saw two more Team Galactica agents. She was surrounded! It would be best to surrender. She could escape later, but if they drugged her, they could get valuable information about Team Rocket from her. That risk, Yamato would not take._

_Climbing up the side of the bridge, she would have leapt right down the dam and into the water below, but the enemy agents grabbed her back. A leach seed was sent out to her. That nasty attack bad enough to pokémon was even worse to humans. Draining her energy in painful shocks, she collapsed onto the ground, shaking miserably and screaming with rage and pain._

_In one last desperate effort, however, she cut the nasty vines surrounding her on the sharp metal points on the rusting bridge. Yamato freed herself, but the throbbing pain and weakness could not be denied now. Her thoughts also had been muddled, and thinking only of escape and not whether she should risk what remained of her strength in what she was about to do, she leapt clear over the bridge and into the water with an almost inaudible splash against the booming roar of the dam._

_The Team Galactica agents could only watch dumbfounded from the bridge, but they probably assumed that the Team Rocket agent would bring them no further trouble._

#

Our friendship was a strange one. I have to say that, not that I knew what friendship was by that point in my life.

Kojiro met me many times. I don't know what he told his wife. It was not as if I would have asked him, but I assumed she knew about it. He talked about her as if she knew; though honestly he did not talk about his family much. Just enough for me to see how in love he was with his family. That in itself would on occasion arouse envy, but usually our time focused on me and what I was doing more than on him.

The way he tried to help me fix my life was like an awkward teacher and I grew to teasing him with the title, Kojiro-sensei, which he did not particularly like, but which he rarely protested about it. I think he liked it just a little.

He would come to my house sometimes, but mostly we would eat out very businesslike. He usually insisted on paying for the meal, and I usually did not argue. Coming in very cheerful with a bag of visual aid, or whatever one may wish to call it. That weird little man would plop the bag beside him and pat it affectionately as if patting a puppy. I would roll my eyes. Then we would order lunch and the lesson, so to speak, would begin.

"So! The first thing like I said is to think better of yourself! Treat yourself like you're something to respect, and other people will too!" said Kojiro, but quickly added with the shake of his finger, "Not too overboard, though, that's not good either. Balance is the key!"

I put up with his eccentric manner and his eager expressions and excitable nature as best I could. He was like a jumpy, little phanpy. His childish happiness annoyed me more than his eccentricity. You would think he was still seventeen or younger the way his youth and vigor remained strong in him. For anyone who saw us, I am sure they assumed Kojiro at least ten years younger than me rather that one or two. I looked older than I was and Kojiro looked far younger. Although I had no mirror I could feel the contrast as if summer and winter sat across from each other.

Another day he said, "Treat others they way you want to be treated. Once you have confidence and respect for yourself then you can move on to respecting others!" He paused scratching his head a moment. "Of course the other way around can work too. I think."

His clichés annoyed me most of all.

"Honesty is the best policy."

This one caused the urge to throw him across the room, but I remained calm and only grunted, which he took as agreement.

"Think with optimism! Get into the habit of noticing the beauty around you. It's everywhere. In the flowers out the window here, in the way the restaurant food's been prepared so nicely for us, in the blueness of the sky, and even the beauty of the clouds when you can't see the sky! The gleam of the cars, the life of the other people passing by …"

Why I put up with him I can only say that besides the fact that he was somewhat amusing, something about his childlike joy I wished I had myself. I would not say much but would watch him. I watched him more than I listened to him, for more often than not he would end up babbling before the end of our session. He bounced, he laughed in his stupid nervous way, and he clasped his hands together like a five year old, yet still managed to keep some of the dignity of his age. I envied him. I hated myself for envying him, but I envied him, and although a lot came out of his mouth, nothing he said really explained to me how he had this inner peace that I could not have.

Maybe he had it more naturally than I did. Probably. No doubt he did.

But as I wondered about him that was when I found out why he kept his home life a secret and how could give me things and money so easily. In an attempt to better myself I had been on the lookout for better jobs, but I had not expected to see in the newspaper, "Help wanted at Niwa Estate."

I did a double take, and yes, I could not believe what I read, but it definitely said "Niwa". It could have been another person named Niwa, but I doubted it even as the thought passed through my mind. Everything made too much sense for it to be otherwise. His old pansy attitude as a Team Rocket agent, his ability to bring his life up again so easily, the way he could spend money so frivolously, everything!

I found the address. It was not much of a secret once I knew about it, and I went to see for myself the fantasy-sized beast dared to be called a house. It was the Taj Mahal as far as I was concerned and the last straw. I do not know how he reacted when I did not show up at our next lesson. I wanted nothing to do with him, and he did not try to find out why.

The rich, little playboy hypocrite who said that gain was not everything and other stupid things would be out of my life forever. I wanted to move to the far reaches of the Northern Regions to get away from him and his wife and everything to do with my old life or theirs.

#

Although I wanted nothing to do with Kojiro, some of his suggestions had somehow rubbed off on me, and taking time for a longer and more satisfying lunch away from the store was one of them. I carried my own bento with me out to a park not far from the water treatment facility. The roar of the dam could be heard from my bench, but I had my back to it and stared absently at the movements of farfetch'd bobbing up and down for their lunch and eyeing me with suspicion now and then or my lunch.

I think they expected me to feed them eventually as no doubt many people did, but I had no intention of doing any such thing. Lifting a rice ball I shoved into my mouth as a sign that I did not feel like sharing. The farfetch'd looked annoyed, but the river must have had enough food to satisfy them. Farfetch'd could be exasperating pests at times. I had to consider myself fortunate.

After lunch and a thermos of tea, I meandered across the street to the dam near the water treatment building. Something about watching the power and hearing the deafening roar of thundering water brings a sort of comfort to the eyes. Interesting, since if a person fell down it he or she would most likely be crushed by the weight of it and drown, especially in a dam like this. That was the morbid thought that passed through my mind as I looked out over the fence that blocked the dam off and let myself be entranced by the continuous white raw energy pouring down as flat as a sheet over the wall behind it.

A sound penetrated over the roar.

Spinning around, I saw that someone had just slammed open the door of the building, and he looked quite frantic. I could not make out what he said, but he pointed to a few other men who had been finishing up their lunches, and they all came hurriedly to investigate. The strong curiosity to see what had happened for myself surged through my mind, but I did not have to go far to see that something more blamable than a leakage had happened at the treatment center. A window had been broken, a wall singed. I could only imagine what the inside looked like, but I would have to continue imagining it.

The words of the judge came back to me that if I ever committed another major crime …

Well, I had not committed a crime, but I could certainly be picked out as a suspicious character at the scene of one. Would I take that risk? Not a chance. I sped across the mesh bridge and leapt into the small wood on the other side. Tripping over a root, I caught myself on the tree it belonged to and did not stop running again until I came to the slope. Gentle falls made their way down to some Pokémon Center I had never seen before.

Vermillion City had more than one?

_What did it need another one for? _I wondered.

I shook my head, but did not think on it long, for I saw some strange black creature stuck on the edge of a pool between those many, little falls. Wait, no! It was not a creature, I soon found out. It was a human. I could see the hair. Cherry blond. The color Yamato had always dyed it. I knew that shade of blond anywhere. In fact, the pigtails too reminded me of Yamato. I wondered if it could be possible that …

Darting down the slope, I at once caused a small avalanche of rocks to fall ahead of me. I caught myself again from tumbling after them, but I stumbled backwards enough times that I had to slide down with my hands carefully holding any nearby branches to as not to go too fast.

A few feet away from the form, I had lost all doubt about who this person could be. It was Yamato. Her hair looked exactly the same as the last time I had seen her, exactly the same as the first time we decided to play into Rocket ethos and show them just how much we could flow as partners by making our bangs identical, and all the times in between.

She had never changed it. Her face could not be seen distinctly, and at first I had to wonder if she was dead. Swooping down beside her, I put my finger to her neck and felt satisfied with the pulse that met my finger, yet looking closer at her body, she did not look at all good.

I had not taken one sick day since I started working, but I thought that now I would be needing at least two.

#

"Kosaburo?"

That she recognized me so quickly surprised me. It surprised me also that she got my name right even though it should not have. It was a paranoia that would forever hang over me. As far as recognizing me period however, I must have looked nothing like I had the last time we had met. The voice may have given me away as I had chased the little nyaasu away from sleeping next to her on my bed where I had set her just before she woke up.

She studied me a moment with obvious effort, and then closing her eyes painfully, she moaned, "I must be dreaming."

"Yamato," I said in a stern tone. "You're seriously injured. I brought you in. You're anything but dreaming."

"But …" Yamato started as she attempted to lift her head up.

A terrible groan escaped her, and she fell back down in defeat. I could not help the pity I felt for her, even though part of me wanted to stay angry with her and to say it served her right. The energy for such anger however had long since left me. I was not quite forty yet, but I had done it to myself. Even the youngest and strongest of us can only take feeling of rage and hurt for so long before it begins to wear one down (or drive one completely off the deep end).

"Just rest," I said, standing still and away from the bed as I stared down at her writhing under the light blanket I had placed over her. "You'll be safe here. I won't call the police, and the hospital won't press information from you."

Yamato only moaned again.

"Why?" Yamato finally asked.

I did not answer.

All her wounds had been taken care of in the best way I knew. Team Rocket agents had been given strict courses on first aid and then some. It was important for keeping agents, I suppose, not that the Rocket itself had ever cared much about the team members.

With nothing further to do for now, nudging the nyaasu with my foot to come with me and leave my X-partner be, I withdrew from the room and closed the door behind me.

#

I had never claimed to be the greatest cook, but I knew how not to over spice. Unless professionals at restaurants were mixing up the concoctions, I liked my food plain. Too many mistakes had been made with too many stupid agents for me to want any food made by people not taught how to cook properly. When Yamato complained that her soup was too tasteless, I could only roll my eyes, but I think also that she just felt the need to complain without bringing attention to what really bothered her: her wounds, her pride, and her loyalty to a ninja clan who had no idea where she was at the moment.

"Why did you rescue me?" Yamato asked again after a moment of staring wistfully out the crack of waning twilight between the curtains.

I lowered my head, and still did not have a strong urge to answer. A long pause ensued and when she did not press, I wondered if she had fallen asleep again, but when I lifted my head her quite alert eyes locked directly onto mine and I found myself trapped in them.

Hurt as she was, even a large bruise on her chin and a cut on her lip, she still looked very much the same as she had when we were partners. Quite a contrast with me who could hardly be said to have much of shadow of resemblance, but her sameness felt to me unreal or unnatural. I don't know what she did or how she did it, for it could not be blamed on makeup as the river had washed most of it clean, but through her mask I saw that lines of age under her eyes, tightening her chin and clinging at her neck, but mostly I saw it in her eyes. Her eyes were not as optimistic nor sparked with wild energy as they once had been. The optimism had turned to cold reality, her energy to hard pride, and there was a weariness that had dulled the spark at the edge of her eyes, but only a little.

I think she saw in my eyes one thin the same as I saw in hers. I have no claim on being greatly poetic, but I think that that was the most poetic moment in my life and not in a good way either. In those violet orbs I saw the life we once had. The strength I had felt, the confidence, the simplicity. I saw how easy it had been to laugh at the world then, and how failures though irritating had been brushed aside for a new mission to begin. Images of stupid kids who got lucky, and pokémon that just barely got away flew through my mind. We even had a few successes for a while … then I remembered the keva.

I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away with a growl.

Yamato slowly turned away as well.

It was not something we wanted to really remember.

That probably explains why I asked so fast I had hardly thought it before it escaped me: "How did you get into that mess?"

With a roll of her eyes she turned back to me. A look very familiar to me crossed her face which told of annoyance but of not feeling it worth arguing about.

"I jumped in," she said simply.

I could not help the thought of suicide from passing through my mind.

"Why?" I demanded.

"I was trying to escape enemy agents," Yamato retorted. "I would not risk Team Rocket secrets falling into the hands of Team Galactica."

"Team Galactica?" I spat. "Yamato. I'm surprised at you. A Team Rocket agent could take out an agent of Galactica any day. Even Gingie could have taken two or three of them out handily."

Yamato sighed, rubbing her temple with further irritation.

"They're not what they used to be, believe me," she muttered. "The little twits are like a horde of beedrill, and we are doing all we can to banish them from Kanto back to Sinnoh where they can rot."

"I see," I muttered in return.

"Not really," she half shrugged, and she relaxed in her pillow again and looked very thoughtful for a few minutes before she said, "I want to contact Team Rocket."

"I don't want to be involved with Team Rocket," I reminded her. "I rescued you, but I don't want a hundred Rocketers poking around here forever after, understand?"

Then I remembered that I had been planning to move up to the Northern Region, and being hounded by Team Rocket would be a good enough excuse to leave as any.

I shook my head.

She closed her eyes and breathed heavily; though all her breaths were a bit heavier than they should have been considering how she lay in bed, but I did not think much of it at the time, and her single breath here was only an expression of her disappointment. A typical pout even formed on her lower lip.

"_Hai_," she said and paused before adding for her cause, "It would not be an official call. It would be to my husband."

I could not help the surge of disappointment that struck through me at that phrase. I had never expressed or barely thought of marrying Yamato, but the idea of her marrying someone else for some reason made me feel betrayed. Yet I managed to hold down the rage.

"Won't he tell the rest of Team Rocket?" I asked honestly enough.

"Maybe," she admitted. "But they will think I'm dead or captured. I don't want them starting a full out gang war because of me. So far there's been no killing in the Galactica/ Rocket conflict, and I want it to stay that way."

"I _don't_ want to get involved with Team Rocket," I told her again. "If their smart, they'll try to find you before they go running wild like barbarians."

She glared at me a moment, and then she turned away.

"Fine," she murmured and lay her head back down.

#

I slept on the couch that night and woke with a nyaasu sleeping right on my face.

"Get off," I grumbled, pushing him off, but I let him stay nearby and watch me curiously.

He knew there was something wrong. I was not much for petting, but I patted his head then rather absently, before I rose to my feet. I had slept in my clothes and the kitchen had been left a mess from the soup I had scraped together last evening. Ignoring it all, I just took a quick shower, because I had forgotten to take one at night before I fell asleep. I put my clothes back on from the day before, and then I went to check on Yamato.

Asleep in the bed, she looked paler and sicker than before. Her breathing sounded strained and hoarse, and her face was wet with sweat.

"Nya?" asked the nyaasu suddenly at my feet.

Ignoring the cat, I went to the kitchen to get some herbal tea, and some medicine that may help her. Even as I brought these things to her, I knew that she was worse than I had the ability to support. The doctor was still out of the question. Musashi and Kojiro's betrayal in calling the police had never left me, and now I promised myself not to make the same move as they had.

Self righteous? Maybe, but I told myself that Yamato would have it no other way.

Still, I had to call somebody, but the only person I knew who could be even the slightest bit trusted with Team Rocket business was—

#

"Kojiro."

"Well, you aren't explaining this very well," said Kojiro with great indigence. "It's been, I don't know, three months maybe since I last heard from you and now your acting all mysterious. What am I supposed to think?"

"This has nothing to do with that," I retorted. "Besides you're the one who was being _all mysterious _about your great and mighty family estate."

Awkward pause.

"I—!" Kojiro squeaked and then he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to think …"

"Well, I did think," I said.

"I know," he replied sullenly.

"It'll be under the bridge," I told him. "Just as soon as you get over here and help me, and I won't ask you for another favor ever again, and no, I can't tell you before you get here, because I don't want anyone else involved."

"I'm not keeping secrets from Musashi," Kojiro said, "especially not like this."

"I know," I said.

"She won't like your mysteriousness either," he warned.

"Tell her I won't let either of you in if she comes too."

"Well, why not?" Kojiro demanded.

"_Because_," I said running my fingers through my hair angrily. "Because it has to do with … Yamato." I whispered the name barely loud enough for Kojiro to hear, and after a shifty pause in which I wondered if he still had not heard it, he let out a heavy sigh.

"Okay, but I still don't like," he said.

"I know. Neither do I."

"Musashi won't like it either," Kojiro reminded me.

"Probably not," I admitted.

"Oh … I can't promise anything, but if I'm there, I'll be there in a half hour maybe, okay? And, Kosaburo, I'm sorry about not telling you about the estate thing. It's just—"

I clicked him off.

I was not in the mood. I rarely was. I only had to recall him again to tell him to bring as many decent medical supplies as his estate had to offer. His further lack of enthusiasm hardly surprised me, but again I did not let him explain himself before I clicked off again.

#

When I returned to Yamato, she was fully awake and told me she heard me talking on the phone. Luckily she did not know I had been talking to Kojiro, but she did not press the "who" so much as the "what" I had been talking about.

I slumped down on the stool beside the bed.

"Help," I told her. "Someone that can be trusted, and who won't call the police on you is coming to help."

"Are you sure?" she croaked.

"He won't do anything I don't want him to, and if he does, you won't believe how much trouble he'll be in," I told her.

Yamato closed her eyes wearily, and she looked so frail and weak that I had to look away.

"_Arigato_," she whispered.

I could not keep my eyes away from a phrase like that, especially with the sincerity with which she spoke it. My surprise must have been evident, for she smiled as weak as it was, and just a touch of wryness hung about her mouth.

"Well!" I said quickly. "It's not like I could have just let you die there! I don't hate you."

"I thought you had never forgiven me," said Yamato; that guilt I had seen when she invited me to join New Team Rocket returned to her eyes.

"I didn't," I admitted.

"And now?" she asked.

Oh, what else could I say to the poor, miserable woman?

"There's no reason for me to keep that grudge against you anymore," I said. "We were _both_ different people then." I could not help but mutter: "for the better or not we were different."

She struggled to resituate herself on her pillow before she said in a manner gentler and warmer than I had ever thought her cold coo capable of, "Yes, we were different."

Her whole face softened as she looked very deeply into my face, searching for something, I could not guess what, but I doubted it was anything she would find. I don't think anyone had ever in all my life stared at me as she had then, and I just stared stupidly in return to her until she said, "Oh, Kosaburo."

"What?" I asked, my throat dry and my voice shallow.

"Seeing you again, I … I … it makes me never want to leave you again," she said.

"You're sick," I told her, my senses for a moment returning. "You're not in your right mind."

"When I get well," she said as if she did not know what I meant by the phrase, "would it be out of the question for us to just elope away. You and me. I mean it." Her hand slowly stretched out for mine, and despite my words, I allowed her to grasp it. "Seeing you again makes everything clear again. I should never have abandoned you."

"What about your husband?" I asked even though, I was falling into the trap she had made for herself. I could feel my heart going out to her and being enchanted by her words in spite of myself.

She cursed her husband and told me that her old husband had been killed in an accident and her new one was nothing to boast about.

I felt sickly satisfied by her remark.

And she went on.

"Don't you remember us?" she asked.

"I've tried not to," I admitted.

"But ever since I left you," she said, his voice so frail and yet so determined, "You've been haunting me. Always at the back of my mind. When I married the first time, you were there on our honeymoon. I loved him, I thought, but I did not forget you. My second husband I married made me think of you more. Not because he reminds me of you. When I got my new partner, you can't believe how many times I wished it would be you. Your cool confidence, your skill, your quick thinking." She laughed sadly. "Even when you lost your temper about—"

My free hand stopped her statement dead as I held it front of her.

"_Gomen_," she said sheepishly.

I just shrugged and looked up at the ceiling. The uncontrollable scowl had grown, and I smoothed it out the best I could as I returned to her.

"I just know, I _know_, that we were meant to be," said Yamato. "That's why we were put together again. You feel that, don't you? It's like it was destiny. Please, Kosaburo. When I get well let me take you away. You look so awful here in this little hovel. Let me take you far away from here. Somewhere where no one will ever find us."

I did not even realize I drew closer to her until we were inches away. I was not sure I heard her so much as felt her. It was as if she imparted to me her longing, and it grew as strong in me as in her. The longing for a hope that had never been but could be, a life of belonging that only once half existed within the strong confines of Team Rocket, but which could be set loose now, a life where we would be understood by only each other, that was what she was offering me. A life with someone I could touch and not hold back, and though I may not have been fully conscious of my slowly drawing to her face, I realized that as she squeezed my hand tighter that I had not touched another human being with that hand since the half felt handshake of my acceptance into my sales' clerk position three or so years ago now, and Kojiro pulling me out of the ditch did not count.

And as for my hovel? I had no loyalty to this life I lived now. Everything could be dropped in an instant, and I would be lost in the paradise of the Orange Islands with a woman who had loved me all this time, and I had not known it, but so far I could not find the words to answer. The first time I had gazed into her eyes when she arrived may have been the most poetic moment in my life to that date, but this left that moment far behind, and I was lost in this one, lost in her dream, that perfectly painted picture, and I burned for it, ached for, grinded my teeth for it.

"Kosaburo?" she asked, her beautiful eyes pleading so pitifully, and despite how I cynically thought in the past that her makeup was the only thing that made her beautiful, almost all her makeup had washed out in her fall down the river. She truly was beautiful even in this state, as beautiful as the life she offered me.

"I want that," I told her, swallowing hard, and surprising myself by the sound of my own voice. "I really do, Yamato."


	7. Seven

JMJ

(7)

Shedding shadow

Tender pink

Flowers out of winter snow

I probably would have kissed her then, but something held me back. Stopping abruptly my already half-readied lips, my mind meticulously absorbed and categorized all that she had said to me. It swirled in my mind like some wild delirium; it flew from me like car exhaust. I knew that what she said could be called nothing less than stupidity.

"Yamato," I said.

"What is it?" she asked eagerly.

"You don't love me."

"Yes, I do!" she protested, the sudden emotion putting obvious strain on her who already had such a critical condition.

"You don't," I said firmly and calmly, almost coldly I would think, and as I let my hand fall away from hers, I drew back to an upright position on my stool. "You don't remember me because you love me. You remember me because you felt guilty about leaving me behind. Well, you shouldn't. I would have probably done the same thing. I don't know anymore, and you don't miss me, you miss the past. You miss our youth; you miss our optimism and the simplicity of what we thought we knew then. You don't miss me."

Tears brimmed in her eyes, but those only confirmed my resolution in what I said.

"You don't love me, Yamato," I reemphasized as I rose casually to me feet. "You don't love me. You don't even _know_ me, especially not now. And I _don't_ know you. It's a fairytale. I don't believe in fairytales. If you knew me, you'd know that by now."

Her teeth clenched, and she closed her eyes as she sunk into her pillows in defeat. She knew me well enough to know that once I had set my mind, it would not be changed, but I knew her well enough to know she could be just as hardheaded.

Before I closed the door behind me, I could hear her whisper through her weak and near raspy voice with all the melodrama of some stupid movie or a soap opera on TV that I would have laughed at before flipping the channel: "You don't believe that."

I paused a moment but did not look back. After closing my eyes a moment with a thought of whether I should turn back or not, I closed the door quietly behind me.

Her sobs echoed through the door, but I only clicked the roof of my mouth and rolled my eyes. They fell on the nyaasu, and that cat cocked his head at me curiously and with a little concern as he sat on the floor in front of me.

"Nya?"

"Oh, what are you looking at?" I muttered and brushed past him.

I got out leftover rice for breakfast and a glass of grape juice, but I had not gotten far in my meal before I heard a knock at my door. At first I could not think who could possibly come to my door, especially at a time when I and pretty much everyone else in the apartment would be out to work for the day. Then I remembered, and the second after I did I heard the door open and a timid voice say, "Hello? Kosaburo?"

With a heavy sigh, I drank up the rest of my juice and set my rice on the floor for the nyaasu. The greedy thing gobbled it up faster than I would have thought possible, but he had been watching me wide eyed the whole time I was in the kitchen.

Why had I invited Kojiro again?

Yamato would not be in the mood to see him, especially after such a romantic conversation. I supposed I had been hoping she would be relaxed when he came, possibly asleep, or that I would have explained it thoroughly before he arrived.

"You," I grumbled as I saw him in the doorway.

"Well, you called me over here," Kojiro reminded me. "If you changed your mind, I can just leave."

Making an abrupt turn, he made to leave, but just as he stepped out the open doorway, I snatched him by the arm and dragged him inside.

"Ack!" he cried.

Releasing him, I gave him a moment to straighten himself as I shut the door.

"Yes, I called you over here," I said. "I'm just in a bad mood."

"Oh, _jaa_ …" said Kojiro, twiddling his fingers nervously. "Where is she? What happened?"

"You know more medical stuff than I do," I told him.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I was actually starting to look into medicine seriously as a career, and had been taking courses online at public computers in town hall before we moved, but—"

"Good!" I said and motioned him down the corridor to the bedroom. "This way."

"How bad is she?" Kojiro asked, not making any attempt to follow me just yet.

Stopping annoyed as I turned to him I muttered, "I don't know."

"Having you considered calling a real doctor?" he asked me, and he glanced with a wide-eyed curiosity at the nyaasu cleaning himself after his breakfast out of my bowl.

"You know perfectly well why I didn't call a doctor," I retorted, pulling him from the view of the kitchen. "You brought your medical stuff?"

Kojiro held up his leather doctor-like bag.

"But—" he started to say.

"Just come on," I growled.

"What if she won't even let me look at her even if I was a doctor?" said Kojiro, and I crossed my arms with a glower. "_I_ wouldn't want me to look at me if I was her and still thought of me as—"

"Shut up," I told him.

"Okay."

"Just let me at least show her to you, and you can at least give me your opinion," I said, and I rubbed my temples and felt irritation reaching its peak as I opened my eyes again to Kojiro's stupid, wide-eyed stare.

"Are you coming or what?" I demanded.

"I'm coming!" he gulped as he followed me to the bedroom, but he looked pretty annoyed himself as he muttered just loud enough for me to hear, "You probably should just call a doctor."

"Well, you came didn't you?" I said. "What did you tell your wife?"

"Nothing," Kojiro admitted, his face lowered with a gloomy guilt which I completely ignored as we reached the door.

"Did she know I was coming?" he whispered then.

"Sort of," I said and paused. "Just wait out here. I'll be right back."

I took hold of the handle and took care as I opened the door. Stepping inside I lifted my head to Yamato's dangerous leer.

"That's your trustworthy person?" she muttered, for naturally she could had easily heard us through the door. "Kojiro?"

Wearily, she closed her eyes and slumped into her pillow with a loud moan.

"He won't give anything away," I said with a shrug.

"You probably know more about medicine than him," she stated with tact that would have angered me had it not been for the miserable croak in her voice and the heaving painful breath between her speech. "We had to know crap like that for our cover missions at Pokémon Centers and with breeders and those places."

"I know," I grumbled.

I knew she was right. Regardless of any online courses, Kojiro probably knew very little more than I did, but that was truly beside the point.

"I don't want him to touch me," she grumbled back.

"Just let him," I said. "He's not going to do anything, and it's not like he'll hurt you. You wanna get better, don't you?"

"Hmph. I'd be surprised if he doesn't faint at the sight of blood, that idiot."

"Yamato," I said. "Just shut up, and let him have a look."

She leered again but consented in the end. She did not have the strength to fight me.

Opening the door, I found Kojiro looking sour and a little like a wounded pokémon in the corridor as he heard every word or close to it, just the same as Yamato had heard him and me. As much as my unwilling supporters disliked it, I had orchestrated this whole thing, and I did not feel up to disbanding it just yet. There was no stopping me now. I was on a roll, and Kojiro and Yamato were helpless to fight against me long, Kojiro with his pushover attitude, and Yamato in her weakened state.

I yanked him into the room, and Kojiro glared at me once he recovered after a squeak of surprise. Yamato's glower grew all the more as she watched this display.

"Yamato," I said again. "Let Kojiro have a look."

A very weary sigh escaped her, and she full of misery looked up at the ceiling.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," I muttered, and then I returned to Kojiro, his sour expression the same as how I left it. "What equipment did you bring with you?"

Regardless of whether or not I knew as much about healing as Kojiro, he had money, and I did not. He was a gazillionaire. I would have been surprised if there was something did not own. Considering the size of the bag, I could not be disappointed by what he brought. It was not as if he could have brought a whole hospital into the apartment with him. He had a stethoscope, real bandaging material, tweezers and other prying tools, but the main attraction was the small X-ray machine with attached laptop.

The last was the sort of thing I had hoped he would bring. When I had done what I could for her wounds, I knew her injuries to be more than skin deep. I had said nothing to Yamato, of course, but I think she knew too.

Besides that, her strange breathing I'm sure unnerved us all. Before Kojiro approached her with his stethoscope, he had to stop and look at me with one of those pathetic stares and ask once more if I could find it better to call the doctor, and I knew it had little to do with the fact that he feared going near her; though I also knew he did.

"Can you …" Kojiro hesitated as he looked down at Yamato. "Can you sit up?" he asked.

"I'd rather not," moaned Yamato.

Again Kojiro turned to me and glared as fiercely as he could manage, and that fierceness held more in it than I would have thought him able.

"Well, okay fine then, but _can_ you?" asked Kojiro, sympathy taking hold of him now, and he looked down at her with such a deep look of pity that for some reason I had a strong urge to punch him, but I didn't.

I found myself looking upon Yamato with a sort of pity of my own and suddenly felt sick.

"I don't know," Yamato said.

"Are you … having trouble breathing?" asked Kojiro; he glanced at me again but this time in a way that a parent may look at a child who had done something terribly wrong, but such a wrong that it produced more sadness than anger on the side of the parent.

Now I really wanted to punch him.

He turned once more to Yamato. "I mean a lot?" he added.

A long pause followed before Yamato answered, "I thought you were here to look me over, not ask questions."

Kojiro frowned. "You won't let me."

"Yamato," Kosaburo interrupted.

Both turned to me skeptically.

Holding up the X-ray machine, I said, "Will you let us use this?"

"I … guess so," she admitted.

"How good does work?" I asked Kojiro.

"Pretty well," he said. "It was top model maybe seven years ago, I think. Something like that."

"Good enough," I muttered.

#

By the mess we found inside that poor girl, I was surprised she was holding up as well as she was. She said nothing when we told her what we saw, except that she demanded to see the computer screens for herself. Kojiro now more than ever demanded that a doctor be found, but neither Yamato nor myself heeded to his cries and protests. Eventually, I ended in sending him away; though immediately after he had gone from sight I knew that he would probably go call a doctor himself despite my threats.

So much for his being a pushover, I suppose. I knew he was not as much of a sap as he used to be.

I pounded the wall and nearly kicked the cat before I slammed the door open to the bedroom.

"Do you want a doctor?!" I demanded.

Yamato did not answer, but she looked worse than ever. Maybe I am wrong, but the visit with Kojiro wore her out, I am sure. It wore me out. I knew that much and Kojiro too, no doubt. Yet her breathing had a sickening raspy way about it that I did not hear before, and that probably had nothing to do with Kojiro's visit.

"Well?" I snapped, clutching the end of the bed with a growl.

"I _want_ to call my husband," she returned as boldly as she was able. "Or my son."

"Your _son_?" I said.

"Yes, my son," she said back. "My son Kosei. He's my good and faithful son. He won't betray where you live to Team Rocket if I tell him not to. The best son I have."

"Not even to his father?" I asked.

"My husband now is not his father," said Yamato.

I grunted. "And what will Kosei do that's so helpful?" I could not help the slight tainted tone in my voice.

Closing her eyes, she seemed to be losing focus on our conversation as she muttered something about Kosei being the only loyal son in the whole world, which to me sounded quite like she was heading into sleep, but I could not let her just yet.

"Yamato!" I snapped so sharply that she became alert instantly with a bit of a start.

She moaned.

"What will Kosei do if we call him?" I demanded. "You better hurry and make a decision, because that idiot Kojiro is going to call an ambulance here as soon as he gets home and sooner."

She paid no attention to me and quickly withdrew into her pillow again, tugging at her neck and looking as white as death.

"Yamato!" I growled; though more for fear for her than because I wanted my interrogation continued.

A shiver ran through me, and I almost choked on a sob.

Still she did not answer; just her wheezing breath came back to me as she stared up like a fish pulled out of water.

"YAMATO!" I screamed.

I am not she if she heard or she just lost the ability to answer, but with my final exclamation, I did not wait to hear an answer even if she had been ready to give one. I wrenched the phone out from under the bed stand and called the hospital myself.

#

When we were part of Team Rocket, I envied her ability to shake things off. Oh, sure her temper may have been as bad as mine in her own way (when she got going she could complain for hours, and I mean hours), but she still did not have that exasperating tendency to brood like I had about things like Namba giving us a lecture like we were little kids, or when we failed one too many times, or when a particular meeting or party had not gone the way I had hoped, or we got assigned to something dull or what I considered below my standards.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Yamato had lived in Team Rocket practically her whole life. She had not felt the same need to fight nonstop against a past that would constantly bring up old failures from a crappy life. She had not felt the need to fight to keep her position in the same way I had. Her brother had brought her to Team Rocket when she was four years old. Nobu had had his fair share broody moments, and to be honest I had considered him a moody dork and could not stand him, but he certainly had been remembering things that Yamato had been too young to retain before she came to Team Rocket.

She had tricked Kojiro and me about how much she really hurt. She had bounced back from me rejecting her romantic advances better than I thought she would have, but I am sure she did not forgive me.

When I found out that she had almost died in the hospital more than once, I had planned to visit. Then she was on the mend, and I did not have the heart to come. She would not want to see me, I was sure of that, and if she did, that meant I really did not want to see her, for she may just press me again. Most of all, I could not face the fact that she would have been far better off if I had just called the hospital to begin with instead of being so stubborn. I could have killed her for my stupidity and pigheadedness.

And why had I gotten Kojiro involved?

I already told myself I hated him.

I think it was because I was afraid to touch Yamato myself.

It is interesting to note that two ambulances came for Yamato that day. He had called one too. No doubt he told Musashi what had happened in full and no doubt he got an earful whether Musashi was still in the habit of konking people over the head or not. I was the one who invited him and I would have konked him over the head for being so stupid as to come.

The only activity I did for a while was to send Kojiro's medical stuff back to his house. I had pushed him out so quickly that he had not had the chance to get his things.

I hated him.

Why had I given him back his stuff?

Because though I hated him, all Kojiro had wanted was to help Yamato and me. I had absolutely no idea why he wanted to help us, but he did with all the stupid honest earnestness an idiot goody-two shoes could possibly have.

Oh, I hated him.

I stayed at home; I went to work. Visiting her in the hospital lingered on my mind, but just when I had gathered enough courage to at least call her, I learned that she had been kidnapped. It did not take much thought to know who had done the kidnapping. An image of some skinny little boy dressed in black sneaking into the hospital with the help of some pokémon or other passed through my mind.

Thus the brooding really began. I may have brooded in the old days of Team Rocket, but I could brood a storm now. Dark clouds hung over my head. I kept to myself more than before. My manager had to "talk" to me about it, and the little he got out of me had him convinced I should get help. I did not want help. I wanted to brood and to feel sorry for myself. I began to think that I may have been wrong to reject Yamato's offer. Many dreams haunted me of a life in some paradise with her as my new wife. Yachts, coconuts, and bamboo resorts and all the pleasures of vacations I once had rolled into one but these often turned to nightmares of Team Rocket as a band of ninja coming to rip out my heart for taking their agent away. Her husband or her son often would be the leaders of these expeditions.

The bar started to look very enticing again …

#

"_Oh, Kojiro, why?" moaned Musashi. "He already took advantage of you more than once. He doesn't want your help! Why can't you get that through your head? Every time he comes into your life you're the one who's affected by him, and you turn into a pitiful wreck! I won't have it this time." She paused with a frown. "Not to mention the fact that he convinced you to do something really stupid behind my back." She shook her head and turned away as Kojiro lowered his head still ashamed of that day. "Kojiro, please. You're happy now. Just forget him."_

_Kojiro sighed, and for a moment he looked exceedingly unhappy about the whole thing. He had made his query so light and optimistic that now to see his reaction to what she had to say, Musashi had to soften up a bit. Leaning toward him, she touched his hair and held it just enough so that her hold was not yet a tug, and she looked him squarely in the eye._

"_Kojiro?" she said. "None of them want your help. Not Yamato. Not Kosanji. Not those other agents … Come on! You wouldn't be able to convince yourself if you went back in time and tried to change _us._"_

"_Some of the people from the Shadow Project—" Kojiro started to say, but Musashi put a finger up to his lips._

"_But those people weren't Team Rocket agents." She paused thoughtfully a moment and then added, "You only want to help Kosaburo because he's here. If it was anyone else from Team Rocket you'd be trying to do the same thing."_

"_Yeah," Kojiro agreed. "But that's why I want to invite him. He's here, and I can do something. I have a whole estate! I have to try."_

"_Kojiro, all the money in the world could not change that stubborn idiot," said Musashi._

"_I didn't mean that!" Kojiro cried. "It's just …"_

_He smiled, his ill ease subsiding, and his smile was by no means weak, though it was not intense. With a gentleness and a firmness about him that made Musashi listen with all openness, he said, "Just this last time, Musashi. Just this last time, and I promise I won't invite him again, but I just have to try this one last time."_

_Rolling her eyes, Musashi slumped into the nearby armchair and dropped her head onto her fist._

"_Alright, fine," she grumbled, then looking up at Kojiro she added, "but he probably won't come. You're going to be disappointed."_

"_Just to try," said Kojiro._

"_Why is it that ever since we got married it's almost impossible to say no to you?"Musashi demanded. "You hand out money in the streets, Kojiro. You find little projects with certain people to help them get jobs and find their puppies and stuff. You actually go looking for it! You're crazy. I can't stand it, and you drive me crazy too. You're too good for your own good sometimes!"_

_Kojiro lowered his head and twiddled his fingers._

"_I'm not that, I'm hardly that," he muttered, and then he said, "Does it really drive you crazy?"_

"_Come on, knock it off, Kojiro, I'm obsessed with you," she muttered. "Just being with you drives me crazy."_

_Kojiro let out a wry smile and leaning down he gave her the most gallant, sweeping kiss on the head but not without a pinch of a playful wryness about him._

"_Oh, no you don't," Musashi said pushing him away, but she was smiling as well now._

_She liked his gallant moments. She always had. They had always been few and far between when they were agents. Of late she had been doing her best to urge them out of him more, but she found that more often than not they came of their own accord when she least expected it. She also had to admit that his gallantness came most from his desire to make others happy, especially his family, and to make up for his rotten past. She just did not want him to try so hard that he brought harm to himself._

#

When I first saw that the envelope had an official label of the Niwa Estate I already had it set between my hands to rip it in half. Tearing through it, I just made to throw it away when I stopped. I'm not sure why I stopped, but taking both halves of the colorful paper inside I let the envelope fall away and put the pieces of the card together on the table and opened the flaps.

"Christmas party," I grunted, and I glanced up the nyaasu who had recently made himself more a permanent resident of the house and now had his own little basket near the radiator in the kitchen.

He cocked his head but looked too sleepy to bother with what I had to say.

"Musashi and Kojiro are idiots," I muttered.

The card halves remained on the table though, strangely enough for a few days. Then finally making my decision, I tossed the shiny, glittery front to the nyaasu for his amusement and threw the rest of it away.

"You have got to be some kind of idiot," I said as if Kojiro stood in front of me, "for you and your wife to actually want me to come to your stupid party and to actually think that I would come besides. What's the matter with you? Don't you know I hate your guts!"

But it was getting harder and harder to hate that idiot or his wife whether I planned on attending or not.


	8. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

_As the new heads of the Niwa Estate, Musashi and Kojiro took on the duty of greeting the guests as they came in. For a time they would do this, and then the butler would take over. Neither Musashi nor Kojiro minded much and in fact took an odd liking to it._

_Musashi dressed in a festive dress in red, green and blue and hints of snowy white and looking rather like a Christmas present. It shone and sparkled like gift wrap and ribbon. Although a tad on the eccentric side it appeared tasteful, except perhaps for her wild hat that looked something like a Christmas volcano and the coiling tinsel ribbons in her hair that looked something like the spurts of smoke amidst her raspberry lava hair, but she somehow pull it all off with a playful grace. Kojiro was not quite as flamboyant in dress, for his suit in design proved rather like any of the other visitors, but it was colored much the same as Musashi's and the __four-in-hand necktie glistened silvery like the tinsel in Musashi's hair._

_Their intent was to change the stiff formality of the Niwa Christmas parties so that the décor showed signs of their eccentricities. Although not intending to cause too much of a stir and wanting everyone to enjoy themselves, the fact that most of the usual guests his parents invited year after year and Kojiro's new guests (mostly relations and friends on his aunt and uncle's side and a couple friends he had made in Hoenn) there seemed to be at least a bit of a clash, for one half of the guests remained around his parents and the other mingled about on the opposite side. There did not seem to be much of an actual conflict, but it did make the party a tad more awkward than Kojiro would have liked. Not to mention than unlike most parties that used to be set up in the Niwa Estate the children were more than welcome and encouraged to come. His daughter Bara he had been in charge of the children's activities._

_What would be said about the party afterward time would simply have to tell, but it would be the talk, for better or for ill, of the next couple months in the aristocratic realm of the Kanto Region and beyond._

_Kojiro took no thought of that now however and greeted every person as cordially as the other whether his parents' guests or his own, and Musashi followed the example, though she did weary of it faster than he did._

_The time for greeting guests drew to a close, and Musashi who kept an eye out for the clock whenever it did not look too out of place, finally turned to Kojiro and pulled him to her to whisper, "Aren't you getting hungry yet?"_

_Glancing up at the clock for the first time since they had been stationed here, Kojiro shrugged, "Just a couple more minutes."_

_Musashi rolled her eyes._

_"Just a couple more minutes," she muttered and sighed as another guest entered the manor at the opening of the door by a servant's hand._

_The guest along with his wife and two nearly grown children entered, and Kojiro and Musashi as with all the other guests, greeted them with all cordial grace. After the guests were directed into the main hall and the ballroom beyond, the main doors yet again opened._

_Musashi holding in a squint turned back to the door, unsure how much longer she could stand there, when both she and Kojiro started in surprise to see who the servant led inside._

_Dressed in clothes Kojiro had given him back when Kojiro first offered friendship (though the suit itself most likely was rented) he stood. Not since the Team Rocket days had he been so clean shaven. His hair, he had cut short and appeared to be slightly gelled and completely managed, nothing like the crazed, caveman hair he had possessed for so long a time that it was if he had been hiding under a bush all and had suddenly emerged, a little pale, a little worn, older but more than welcome. With some timidity and looking about like a dog who had found himself in a party of cats, he approached Kojiro and Musashi. He smiled, a tad sickly, but his face had not seen the light of a genuine smile for quite some time. He had a present in a small neatly wrapped package which he handed to the lord and lady of the house still trying to recover from their surprise._

_"Sorry if it's too late to accept the invitation," Kosaburo asked._

_With the package in his hand, Kojiro broke out of the stupor before Musashi, and a broad smile spread out across his face as he stepped forward toward his guest._

_"No, it's not too late," said Kojiro. "In fact, you're just in time." He paused looking down at the present in his hands, and then looking back to Kosaburo he said, "_Arigatou_," with a polite bow._

_Kosaburo rolled his eyes. "It's not much really, it's just a thank you," he said with a very humble bow of his own, "and an apology even though it's hardly enough to make up for how I acted."_

_Frowning, Musashi just caught herself from saying something along the lines of, "You bet this isn't enough to gain forgiveness for how you treated Kojiro." With a heavy sigh, she smiled instead, a very honest smile, for as she glanced at Kojiro, she knew that just his being here was enough of a thank you and an apology for him._

_Before Kosaburo was led completely out of sight, Musashi left Kojiro's side a moment, and running up to Kosaburo, she caught him by the sleeve. Kosaburo turned quite alarmed, but Musashi put things right soon enough._

_"Thank you, Kosaburo," she said. "Thank you so much for coming. You don't know how happy you just made Kojiro."_

_Kosaburo shook his head. "_Doushite desuka_?"_

_He did not receive his answer. Musashi only smiled and began to explain to him the events of the evening. Leading him into the ballroom she distracted him with the many different dances and things to eat and the music and the games. Everything she could think of. She introduced Kosaburo to her three oldest children Bara, Fuuyuki, and Ichiro who were considered old enough to be on the adult side of the party at least for a while._

_Although not forgetting his question, he did find himself rather lost in a fog as Musashi helped him get a dance partner and helped him find the choicest food to eat. Kojiro eventually took over leading him around, and catching him in between dances he said, "Are you enjoying yourself?"_

_"Well," Kosaburo admitted. "Except for the fact that I feel like I'm trouncing around with the royal court of King Louis the something or other I guess I can't complain."_

_He smiled wryly to show he was only joking, and Kojiro smiled back though a tad apologetically._

_"Eh," said Kosaburo waving a hand aside. "Don't worry about it. Go entertain your other guests. I got a partner to dance with and a full plate to come back to. I'm not the only guest here. Get outa here."_

_Kojiro nodded with energy and did as bidden; though not without saying, "I think your partner's waiting by the way." He motioned behind him._

_On the other side of the ballroom as Kojiro went to hunt down Musashi, he quite out of nowhere felt a lump on his head._

_"Nyaasu?" he asked._

_"That was different," Nyaasu laughed. "You actually telling some poor guy to dance with a painted up woman, nya."_

_"Oh, knock it off, Nyaasu," said Kojiro lifting a glass of Bailey's to his lips._

_"Ny-o _hontou_!" Nyaasu went on. He paused a moment to ask, "Bailey's! Nya! I want some of that," as he snatched the glass away with a cry of protest from Kojiro. "After all that fuss about girls in the past and ny-ow your married to one," He took a few gulps "you talk to your girly cousins, "He took a few more. "And ny-ow you're playing matchmaker, nya."_

_He sniggered and was about to drink some more when Kojiro snatched the glass away._

_"Remember what Musashi said about you getting drunk?" Kojiro demanded._

_Nyaasu snatched the glass back._

_"Oh, c'mon, nya," said Nyaasu patting Kojiro's head. "You can't get drunk on Bailey's."_

_"How many of those glasses have you had?" Kojiro pressed as he once more took hold of the glass only to find that it had been emptied._

_With a sigh and roll of his eyes, he set the glass where a servant would have it removed._

_"I'm n-yot drunk, nya," protested Nyaasu. "I'm just enjoying myself at your expense."_

_"Yeah well if you're gunna be that way about it than it's undignified for a pokémon to be on the lord of the manor's head," grumbled Kojiro._

_"_Ny-e, ny-e, ny-e_! I'm joking, I'm joking," said Nyaasu patting his head again and snatching up another glass of Bailey's he handed it Kojiro._

_Kojiro smiled, rolled his eyes and took his sip._

_"Thank you," he said._

_"My debt is repaid, nya," laughed Nyaasu. "But seriously, I bet the Cook that he wouldn't show up and ny-ow I owe him three days worth of cooking after Ny-ew Years, nya."_

_"That's your problem then," sighed Kojiro. "I don't feel a bit sorry for you."_

_"Cruel, Kojiro, cruel, nya." The cat thought about taking the glass back at such a comment as that, but he changed his mind as he asked, "So, Kojiro, why did you ask him to come an-yee-way? What made you think he'd come?"_

_"I didn't," admitted Kojiro. "I just wanted to give him another chance, and why invite him to the Christmas party? I dunno. I guess, it just sounded good at the time."_

_"This doesn't necessarily mean he's changed, Koji boy," Nyaasu told him in all seriousness._

_"Of course it doesn't," retorted Kojiro, and he paused looking thoughtfully as he drank from his glass before he spoke again, "but then, if you think about it. It would have to take a lot of courage to come here and to ask for my forgiveness. You know, _my_ forgiveness. Me, when all he usually thinks of me as is …"_

_"He actually asked for your _forgiveny-ess_?" interrupted Nyaasu, quite impressed._

_"He did," said Kojiro._

_Nyaasu shrugged. "Then maybe there's hope for him yet, nya."_

#

Mr. and Mrs. Niwa, Kojiro and Musashi, somehow convinced me to spend the night. After most of the other guests had gone, they told me that it was far too late for me to go back home. There was no arguing with them. Before I could say anything against them, I found myself in a guest room with something to change into for sleep (and a pair of slippers to scuffle in). I was too tired to think about it all much, and aside from noticing with distaste the antique frill of the night shirt I went to sleep without further thought.

In the morning, clearer of mind and feeling that I should leave before they pressed me to stay after breakfast as I had already been snagged to eat with the Niwa family, I hurried out with a fairly quick good bye. No one seemed to stop me so, satisfied, I started on my way. I should have gone faster though, for I had just passed the fountain in the middle of the courtyard when I heard someone running after me.

"_Matte_!"

I should have also known who it would be before I heard him.

"Kojiro," I grumbled.

"Here, you forgot this," he said handing me a box.

I glanced.

"Cookies," I muttered.

"Well, they'll go to waste otherwise," laughed Kojiro. "There was so many made, and even though Nyaasu and the children wanted to claim them, they don't need all that anyway, and uh, … _sayonara_."

With a wide grin he turned to leave, but I was not about to let him leave like that just yet.

"Hey," I said.

Kojiro spun around.

"_Hai_?" he asked with warranted uncertainty.

"Do you mind me asking," I said now that we had the privacy of the courtyard. "What exactly happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" Kojiro asked now very confused.

"You know exactly what I mean," I grunted. "You didn't get like this after some slow progression of maturity even if that's part of it."

A look of uneasiness overcame Kojiro now.

"Musashi said that you were different all the way back when," I said. "She said you saved all four of us from being shadow agents. She said she wouldn't have married you if things had been like they had been before."

"She said all that?" asked Kojiro timidly.

Crossing my arms and leaning back against the fountain so that I had to turn my head to the side to talk to him, I ignored his question and went on. "I thought she was just being an idiot, but I'm starting to see that something came over you a long time ago that made you stop being an agent and whatever else you were doing at the time. You're not how you were when I saw you before. What happened?"

Kojiro paused, fidgeting, and looking down at the frozen, shoveled, stone ground he nodded.

"Yes, I, uh … guess that does deserve some kind of explanation, doesn't it."

"Yeah."

Taking a deep breath he said, "It's kind of complicated. It might take a long time to explain. It might better if we —"

I interrupted with a shrug and said, "Shorten it. I just want the drift. I'm not sure I _want_ to know every detail anyway."

Again Kojiro nodded though looking hesitant. "Okay, okay, just a minute, let me think how to start."

He tapped his chin a moment, twiddled his fingers, and paced a few times with arms wrapped around his back. At last when I felt my patience wearing thin he stopped and said, "I was bad."

"Yeah, I know that," I grumbled.

"No, but that's part of it," said Kojiro. "Before the real serious stuff happened, just a few weeks before, actually, well, I visited my summer home."

"No wonder you guys didn't get any work done running all over the place like that," I said with a shrug.

Kojiro laughed, but not totally with humor as he stared out at the stony walk, and his mind slowly drifted back to some past realm.

"It wasn't for vacation," he told me. "It was for, well, my chimecho was sick. There were no Pokémon Centers around, and I remembered that the servants who took care of the summer home nearby knew all about curing pokémon. I brought him there, but I didn't want them to know I was a Team Rocket Agent."

"Understandable."

"But they knew it all along," said Kojiro, still not looking at me; perhaps he dared not to. "They told me that deep down inside I was a good person, but that wasn't true. I was a terrible person. They still didn't understand. I didn't even myself. I was just as evil as you were if not more. I just sucked at it. I tried to kill little kids. I blackmailed little kids. I was awful. Not to mention the fact that I was just an overall creep to the point where some people thought I was gay."

"Well …" I decided against finishing what passed through my mind, and that is just as well.

"But I wasn't! Not ever!" he snapped suddenly before he fell again into that hypnotic trance in his memories yet again. "That old couple still thought of me as that little boy that came there when he was freed from a school year of a million tutors."

"So that's what changed you?" I asked.

Kojiro shook his head. "No."

"Then what that got to do with anything?" I demanded.

"That I _didn't_ change," he said. "I felt guilty, I protected the greenhouse from burglary, but I couldn't stay. I did not want to change. I didn't change. That's the point."

I sighed and thought with some annoyance that if I wanted to know what happened to Kojiro, I would have to be patient and let him do it his own way, despite how much I told him to skip the details.

"Alright, go on," I pressed.

"Well," Kojiro said. "It was a few weeks afterward, maybe a month or so, I don't know. I didn't really keep track of time then, especially by then. I, well … you're gunna probably think I'm crazy if I tell you."

"Go on," I said again with only the slightest hesitation.

With a small gulp, he glanced at me only briefly. Although he straightened himself, he ended in diverting his gaze again.

"I … uh … we … uh … I got separated from Musashi and Nyaasu was already lost," he finally said. "A big sea monster tried to kill me. I wandered around for … I don't know how long. Long. I guess. There was no human being around, and I got more and more lost. I tried to find Musashi in the desert. I thought I'd find her out there. She wasn't there. I ended up being a prisoner. These creatures like talking pokémon were everywhere."

"Phantom pokémon?" I offered.

Again he glanced at me, his face rather blank for a moment.

"You know," I said. "Phantom pokémon."

"I know what phantom pokémon are," he muttered. "Unfortunately." But he did not say if my guess was correct.

"Okay, so they captured you and …?"

"They were going to auction me off, but I escaped with another … creature, but he just led me to an even worse … creature. The worst creature I've ever seen in my entire life! He whispered horrible things to me, and I don't remember them, but I remember how sick I felt. I remember almost wishing I could die, but I didn't want to die, and they didn't want me to die either. They wanted me to … to … to … be their puppet to control the creatures that lived there or something. They tried to destroy me, more than I already was destroyed, and I thought Musashi and Nyaasu were dead, and I thought I would never escape that rotten, old tower. They wanted to … well, destroy my heart, the little that was left of it, and they almost succeeded, and …"

I raised a brow but otherwise remained unmoved as I said, "They did …?"

Swallowing hard, Kojiro nodded.

"And why didn't they?"

He turned to me very strangely then, very mysteriously and said in the simplest way a person could, "I was rescued." A small smile appeared on his face before it fell again. "I was given a second chance. _Iya_, a last chance." He paused. "I took it. It was really slow after that, but I took it, and by the time we were back in Hoenn I went back home, and Musashi and Nyaasu chased after me because we were a team, and they didn't want to go back to Team Rocket without me if they could 'snap me out of' what came over me. I never snapped out of it entirely, and I hope I never do."

I did not ask that day who had rescued him that had left such an impression on him. If I had I probably would have indeed called him crazy. Then as it was, I felt on the verge of calling him that, but I could think of no better explanation for his change unless he truly was insane and had been most of his life. Honestly, I would not have put it past him, but I had done enough calling him names. Besides, I knew that there had to be some ring of truth in what he said. The world was a mysterious place, and Musashi and Kojiro wandering around as they had with no contact or direction except following some boisterous, carefree boy trouncing the whole Nation and beyond. It would not surprise me in the least if somewhere along the way the pair and their talking pokémon got separated. Beside, speaking of crazy, if he was crazy, I suppose I was too, thinking back on my own life and how I happened to live it.

We parted shortly after he ended his account. I did not look back that day, but I often returned after that. I calmed down, my anger slowly dissipated. Believe it or not within a year's time I found myself in love and engaged to one of Kojiro's cousins' friends. I had got my final chance too apparently, and I took it, and it is one of the finest decisions I have ever made, my happy and optimistic Miki.

As a wedding present Kojiro tried to offer me one of his summer homes, but I would not allow that. I would not have been able to afford to keep it anyway, and I wanted to live independently. Miki and I ended up on the far side of the property of the Niwa Estate, however. Kojiro sold this land to us at a bargain price. Oh, what can I say? It is hard to say 'no' to him, but I will have it known that I have managed to snag myself a good paying job in Vermillion City, and we built our own house on our new property.

I also have Hajime, a strong and smart boy. I did not think I could handle more than one even if Musashi and Kojiro got away with having seven in all. I am not sure how they do it. No, I take it back. Only now I am beginning to understand, but I am a slow learner these days.

So one son, one cat, and a supportive wife, a decent job and wealthy friends, I suppose a man could do worse in life even if almost too late to enjoy it.

My mind would on occasion stray to Yamato, and I would at those times wonder where she was and if she was happy. It is almost ten years ago now that I have last seen her, but lately I have heard rumors. These are just rumors, of course, but I have heard that there is a woman who has since last January come visiting the Niwa Estate mysteriously now and again. I suppose it could be some other person that Kojiro and Musashi are helping, I don't know, but I like to imagine that first January night and Yamato approaching the door. I can see her hesitantly knocking for the first time. That weird little head of the estate there at the door, with his wife standing beside him and a child not far behind, invite her inside and lift her weary spirits as she lifts her head.

Kojiro said he was given a last chance, but I know perfectly well that that chance was not for him alone. When he took that chance, he took the chance for all four of us back when not any three of us thought much of him. Musashi who ended up being his wife maybe liked him at the time but would have never dreamed of him being at all important or able to handle importance. I suppose it is like that famous quote, "The last will be first and the first will be last." Kojiro had his chance first, and we just had to take it then ourselves after him. Why any of us was given this chance, I still do not pretend to understand, but I am thankful, more thankful, and happier than I have ever been in my whole life.

_OWARI_

_THE END_

* * *

_JAPANESE PHRASES:_

_Arigatou: _Thank you

_Doushite desuka_: Why (formal)

_Hontou_: Really

_Ne: _Hey

_Sayonara_: Good bye


End file.
